Mad World
by JustAnotherPseudonym
Summary: Sara's life gets turned upside down when her parents die and she's forced to take in a family member she thought she could try and forget forever. CathSara Femslash
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Mad World**

**Disclaimer: I don't own CSI. This is rated M for language and violence. This is also femslash Catherine/Sara pairing. This is told from the POV of an original character.**

* * *

Chapter One

If she's made anything clear to me in my lifetime, it's that she doesn't accept me. She doesn't know where she should classify me in her big scientific mind. Every time I'm around her she acts weird and standoffish. She's been able to avoid me for most of my life. She's been able to walk away and pretend like I've never existed.

I was cool with that. I didn't know much what to do with her either. I couldn't talk with her, not even about our parents. She told me she had a harder time with them than I did, but she really wouldn't know that. She says living with them was better for me, but she really wouldn't know that either. For her knowing so much, I think she knows shit. I had it just like she did; I just played their game differently. I let them make me into what they wanted me to be.

She may have liked Mom and Dad's "love taps" but I couldn't stand them. I also couldn't bring myself to try to fight back. I grew up to be bigger than him too. I grew up and I was stronger and bigger, but I still fit into the mold of who they thought I was and who they thought I should be.

They never let me forget that they saved me from my horrible real' parents who didn't want me, and told me that I should be thankful they decided to take me in. They always told me I was worthless until they came and saved me from my drug addicted, unfit, stupid parents. I was called stupid too, because genetically I couldn't be smart, at least that's the story they told.

So Sara says I had it different than her. She looks at me and she sees everything her parents wanted from her but that she couldn't give them. She looks at the surface, but she doesn't look at me at all. She doesn't know me, no matter how much she tries to pretend that she does.

They're dead now. They died tragically in a car accident, as cliché as that sounds. Now I'm stuck with her. She's my only living relative and she doesn't give a damn about me. She never has. She was seventeen when they adopted me. She was out of the house almost before I could talk. I hardly even know her, but now because the law insists I have a guardian I'm stuck with her and she's stuck with me.

I guess I could look on the upside. I only have to stay with her for two years then I can run away off to college and forget that I ever called myself a Sidle. For now though, I've got to continue playing the same stupid role I've played all my life. I have to pretend that I'm someone and something that I'm not.

"Have you gotten everything you need for school?" This is the first thing she's said to me all morning. We don't really talk that much to each other. Even at the funeral we didn't really say anything. I hardly even recognized her when I first saw her and I'm almost positive that she didn't recognize me at all.

"Yep." I hold up the paperwork I've filled out and had her sign so that I could actually start going to school again. It's been two weeks since the accident, and I think that's enough mourning time

for me. I rather be at school than sitting around in silence with big sis' any day.

"You know Catherine's sister Nancy is going to be picking you up?"

"I forgot to tell you, I'm staying after school to try out for the basketball team. The season just started and the coach told me she'd be willing to give me a shot." Basketball is the only way I'm going to be able to go to college. It's my ticket away, and I can't afford taking off a season. College recruits don't look at that very highly, and I don't intend on using my dead parents as an excuse for anything.

"How are you going to get to my place?" It's still her' place. It's not even ours. I know when I'm not wanted.

"Maybe one of the girls on the team can give me a ride. I'll work it out."

We pull up to the front of my new school in this new state, in this new city, and I'm finding myself nervous for the first time in a long time. What if I can't do this?

"Call me if you need a ride," Sara offers me as I open the car door. "And good luck with the tryout," she adds timidly.

I wonder if she even knew I play basketball. If she did she probably doesn't think much of it. She probably would be more interested if I was president of the science club or some other reputation killing organization, not that popularity is that important to me. I rather fly under everyone's radar except when I'm on the basketball court.

"Later," I say to her before I shut the car door. I don't look back at her once I turn away. I put my full attention on the school in front of me. It's big. In reality it's probably not any bigger than my school out in Cali but it certainly looks a lot bigger right at this moment.

Someone bumps me from behind and quickly apologizes. I don't see who it is, because they've already faded into the crowd of people that surround me. This may not going to be as easy as I thought, but I can't change anything now. So I walk up to the building, turn in my paperwork and head off to my first class.

It's advanced Calculus. Sara's not the only smart person in the family, but she really wouldn't know anything about that. I'm not even sure she actually read through the crap I handed off to her to sign. It listed all my coursework. She didn't ask me about any of my advanced classes, but I'm not looking to impress her.

I don't really care about all these fancy classes, but it puts me a step up in line for getting that scholarship I want. I'm a great basketball player, but there are a lot of great basketball players

out there waiting to take my scholarship. I've got to set myself apart.

If I can show the recruits that I have a brain as well as the brawn then I'm going to get a full ride. Not a lot of sophomores can handle advanced Calculus. Not a lot of sophomores are even in advanced Calc. If I keep up on the road I'm on, the school's going to run out of the choices of math classes they can offer me.

The class if full of seniors and I'm the youngest here. They all look at me with a hint of envy and I can even point out some of them who are going to want to be my friends because they want to make an A' in the class. There's no quicker way to make false friends in this place than being able to help people cheat.

Ms. Eddington introduces me to the class and points out a chair for me. She collects the homework from the other students and then begins her lesson. I take out my notebook and start absently taking notes.

Unfortunately, my brain isn't as engaged as I need it to be. My mind starts wandering and I start getting these stupid flashbacks from the life before. My parents never knew I was in advanced math. They didn't know I was in any advanced classes. They kept uninvolved in my academic life.

They thought I was too stupid to even think. Once they actually told my principal I was cheating in all my classes. There was no way I could be smart enough to get good grades. I had to be cheating. I was too stupid to be smart.

"Melinda?" My head flips up when I hear my name. It's Ms. Eddington and she's pointing at the overhead. I think she wants me to finish solving the problem she's got up there. She's probably just calling on me to make me feel included or something.

I take a quick look around me and see everyone's eyes on me. I wonder how many times she tried calling my name.

I get up and walk over to her. I accept the red marker she's offering me and take a look at the problem below me. I run through all the formulas I know in my head and decide on which one will work for this particular problem. I take a stab at it and circle my answer.

Without looking at the class or Ms. Eddington I put down the marker on the glass and walk back to my seat. It doesn't really matter to me if I got the problem right or not. The teacher will correct any and all of my mistakes, which I'm sure there are many. Stupid people make mistakes and get things wrong. I'm stupid.

"Well," Ms. Eddington is looking down at the problem thoughtfully, "that's certainly one way of doing it. It's a little more advanced than where we're at, but you still did a great job." She smiles at me, but it doesn't lighten my mood any. "How many of you understand what she did here?"

No one in the class raises their hand. Ms. Eddington erases my work and starts working the problem again. She does it a lot slower than I did, and takes her time explaining all her marks. I pick up my pencil again and start copying her writing.

I've got to get their stupid voices out of my head. They're dead now. Everything they've said doesn't matter. They don't matter any more. It's just me now. It's just me. It's only ever going to be me, because my sister the great Sara Sidle doesn't even care. She never has and I doubt she ever will.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimers in previous chapter**

Chapter Two

It took more of an effort than I thought it would, but I actually survived all my classes. It's time for me to actually do what I'm good at now. I've already changed into my workout clothes and am standing in front of the temporary locker the coach gave me. I'm standing here and I'm trying to focus my mind on the next hour.

I have to push away all that crap that's been going through my head. There's no way I can play and have all that floating around up there. I brace my hands against the lockers and take a deep breath.

The past doesn't matter on the court. No one out there cares about what I've been through or what my parents said to me or that I'm forced to say with a sister who hardly even knows my full name. They only care about how well I can pass and shoot a ball. They don't care how smart I am. They only care about whether I can not let the other team score.

Nothing but my abilities on that court matter. Everything else is a distant second.

"Sidle, are you going to work your way out to the court today?" The coach calls out to me.

"Focus, Sidle," I say to myself before I run to the locker room door and meet up with the coach. "I'm sorry," I say. "I just needed to pick myself up."

Her blue eyes turn to me concerned. "Hard day?"

I shrug. "It's the first day back." I say as an explanation. She knows my situation' just like all my other teachers know.

She puts her hand gently on my shoulder. "If you want to put this off for another day I'll understand."

I take her words as a challenge. "Basketball doesn't wait for the perfect moment."

The coach smiles and pats my shoulder then her hand drops away. "Just don't take too much on at once."

She walks ahead of me into the gym and I follow her letting the day's emotions flow off me at the door. I look at my soon to be teammates and can't help but feel a little bit intimidated. I don't know any of these girls, and they're all going to be judging me seeing if I'm good enough to be a part of their team.

The season has already started. They've got their starters already picked out, and I'm here to replace one of them. I don't doubt that I'll be able to do it, and from looking at them I don't think they doubt it either.

Coach Compton introduces me to the team and tells some girl named Rebecca to lead us in the warm-ups. The entire team stands and begins following Rebecca in her warm up laps around the court. I fall in with the rest of the team and try to find my rhythm.

Once we've finished the laps we do some stretches and immediately fall into drilling. I quickly realize that I'm the best player on this team and so does everyone else. The rest of the team starts smiling at me and treating me as a person instead of an unwanted guest. The practice gets less tense as we move along and when we're done I've got a place on the team. I'm their new starting shooting guard.

* * *

The next morning I've got breakfast on the table and waiting for when Sara gets home. I'm happy about making the team and decided to spread the joy a little bit. Plus, since I'm staying at her apartment for the next two years rent free, I should probably pull some of my own weight.

She walks into the door and when she sees the food waiting for her she gets this confused look on her face. It's like she's not even sure if she's walked into the right apartment.

"What's this?" She asks carefully.

"It's food." I finish setting the table. "It's not poison."

She opens her mouth, but quickly shuts it again. "You should sit down." I tell her. "I've got to get to school, so I've got to eat fast."

She does as I say and takes a seat. "I hope you don't mind that I didn't make any bacon or anything." I take my own seat and start filling up my plate. "I can't stand eating meat, let alone cooking it."

"You're a vegetarian?" She sounds surprised.

I nod. "I don't have an objection to people eating meat, but I played with ducks when I was a kid."

"You played with ducks?"

I nod again. "I had a friend whose mom would take us to the park sometimes. The park had a lake with ducks. I'd play with them. Eventually, I realized that people ate ducks and I couldn't imagine eating my friends. Then I thought that all animals were someone's friend, so I stopped eating meat. Plus, I finally read that book Charlotte's Web." I know that I'm rambling, but I'm not very comfortable in Sara's presence. I shove a forkful of food in my mouth so I don't say anything else.

Sara chuckles a little. "We have something in common."

I chew my food thoroughly then swallow. "You have a duck friend too?"

"No," she shakes her head. "I don't eat meat."

I blink a couple of times. "Oh." It's all I can think of to say.

"So how was your first day?" Her attention is on her food. She doesn't ever really look at me. I don't know why my appearance bothers her so much. I don't look anything like her parents. I'm taller than both of them. My skin is darker. My hair is different. The only thing we share is our eye color. We're nothing alike.

Sara raises her head from her food and catches me staring at her. I don't turn away. I meet her gaze straight on. "I'm not like them." I don't know why I say it, but I do. "They never let me be close enough to them to be like them."

"I know." Sara drops her head again.

"If you know, then why do you hate me?"

She puts her fork down and raises her gaze to mine again. "I don't hate you."

I don't really believe her. "Okay." I stand up from my chair and carry my plate to the sink. I rinse it off and walk to the room given to me to retrieve my backpack. When I turn back around to the door Sara is standing in front of me.

"My co-worker, Catherine, she wants us to have dinner with her and her daughter on Friday." Sara is shifting her stance from foot to foot. She's nervous. She always seems nervous around me. "Is that uh… is that okay with you?"

I put the strap of my backpack over my shoulder and shift the book filled pack into a comfortable position. "I have a game on Friday." I walk up to my sister. "I made the team."

She gives me a weak smile. "Congratulations. What time is your game on Friday?"

"You want to go?" I'm genuinely surprised. Her going to my game would actually show she has some sort of interest in my life. That or she's starting to pity me. Sara is never interested in my life just for the sake of interest.

"Yeah," she still has that weak smile on her face. "I was thinking that maybe we could all go to your game and get some food afterwards."

"It's at seven."

She nods at me then I squeeze through the space between her and the doorframe in my effort to get away from this very awkward situation.

"How are you getting to school?" she calls to me my back.

"Bus," I call back not chancing to actually turn around. It's really not good for me to have these kinds of conversations in the morning. My brain hasn't fully woken up yet and can't process any kind of good response.

I lock the apartment door behind me and continue on out of the building. Sara stays inside the apartment, and that's a real good thing. The other good thing is that it's only Tuesday morning. Sara is working all up until Friday. By the time I get home from practice she's at work. The only time I'm going to see her is in the mornings before I go to school.

I can handle that kind of schedule.

* * *

Friday rolls around a lot quicker than I thought it would. Sara confirmed our plans this morning before I ran off to school. Apparently, Catherine—a woman I only met at my parents' funeral—and her daughter are going to join Sara in watching me play a game of basketball at the team's first home game of the season.

Any moment now, Sara is going to walk into this gym and take a seat in the stands with our group of meager fans. I can't help but keep looking at the gym doors. A part of me actually believes that Sara isn't going to come. Something more important was going to make it on her schedule and I would be forgotten and put aside, like she had done to me for my entire life.

Not that I really minded that. We wouldn't have made really good sisters anyway. We would never have anything to talk about. She was twice my age. How much could I talk to someone who was so much older than me?

"Melinda!" One of my teammates yells right before a basketball smacks me right in the forehead. Immediately, I put my hand to my forehead and start rubbing away the pain with the palm of my hand.

"Get your head in the game, Sidle!" Coach yells to me from the sidelines.

"You okay, Mel?" Jenny puts one hand on my shoulder and gently pulls my hand away from my face with the other. "Rebecca hit you pretty good."

I pull away from her, not in a mean way, more like in a jock way. "I'm fine." I blink my eyes a couple of times waiting for my vision to clear up. When there is no more fuzziness, the first thing I see is Sara standing across from me near the bleachers with a worried look on her face. Catherine is standing next to her, holding her hand, and Lindsey is staring at me with a smile on her face. The kid got a kick out of seeing me clobbered by a basketball, brilliant. There is nothing quite like making a first impression as a complete idiot.

"Is that your… family?" Jenny asks me following my line of sight.

I shake my head. "Not really. The taller one's my sister and the other two are friends of hers. I guess."

"She's your sister?" Jenny seems surprised by this.

"Yeah," I sigh. "I know we don't look anything alike, but that's because I'm adopted."

"Well that's not…" Jenny starts to say before Coach calls out to both of us yelling at us to stop chatting when there was work to be done. We quickly take our places in our warm up drills and get on with looking like actual basketball players instead of amateur idiots.

To make up for my complete unprofessional appearance before, I decided that I was going to score at least thirty points in this game. I also decided that I would get at the very least ten steals and four blocks. I like goal setting.

By the end of the game, I fell short in my goals but only when it came to getting the four blocks. I only got two. There were no recruits at the game tonight, I don't think, but I still have to do better than that. I can't play bad games anymore.

"You did really well tonight." My head is inside my locker. I am reaching in to get my stuff so that I can meet up with Sara and crew outside.

"Thanks." I take my head out of my locker and see Jenny standing right next to me.

"You're going to be great for this team." She smiles at me and I smile back. There's not a whole lot I can say to her at the moment.

"You played good too." My words sound stupid, of course. I think moving to Nevada has somehow made me dumber.

"Some of us are going to go out and get some pizza; do you want to join us?"

"My sister is waiting outside," I point in the general direction of the locker room door.

"That's okay. Our families are going to be there too. We usually all try to meet up after a game, especially for home games. It boosts team morale."

This seems way too much family oriented for me. I've never done anything like it before, but the plus side is I won't be left alone with Sara, Catherine, and Lindsey. "I'm in. Where are we meeting at?"

"At that pizza place off that road near the school," Jenny moves her hands around in multiple directions.

"You're good at giving directions, huh?" I smile to lighten my comment.

Jenny shrugs. "I suck at directions, but I'm sure your sister knows where it is. It's the one with the mini-golf and arcade inside."

"Arcade?" The word really isn't a foreign one to me, just not what I was expecting.

"Hey, we work hard we play hard."

I don't know why but the comment makes me laugh. I grab the rest of the stuff out of my locker and stuff it into my athletics bag, then slam my locker shut. "Please lead the way," I motion for Jenny to move ahead of me and she does so with a bow.

We exit the locker room smiling. I turn my head and immediately see Sara. My smile fades. Jenny waves goodbye to me, saying she'll see me in a few and runs off to wherever her ride is waiting.

"Hi," I give a stupid little wave to the three people waiting for me and feel a lot more nervous than I did when I started playing the basketball game.

"You played really well tonight." Catherine smiles at me and I smile back.

"Thanks." I adjust the strap of the bag on my shoulder and pretend like there's something really attention-grabbing on my shoe.

"You were awesome," The younger girl says excitedly from between Catherine and Sara. "I'd wish I could play like you if I wanted to play basketball."

"Thanks." Apparently my vocabulary has broken down to one single word.

"I… I didn't know you were that good," Sara's voice sounds almost as unsure as mine. "You're a lot better at sports than I ever was."

I don't know quite how to take her comment. I don't ever really know how to take anything she says. Maybe if she actually talked to me a little more I'd be able to decipher her meaning once in a while.

"The team is meeting at this place. They do it after the games and they invited me and I told them that I would go." I speak quickly, but only because I'm afraid the longer I talk the higher chance I have of screwing up my words.

"The other parents told us about it," Catherine says after Sara has kept her silence for a while. "We told them that we'd meet them there if that's what you wanted."

"Okay." I don't know how we manage, I don't know how I manage, but we eventually all end up in the same vehicle having agreed to go to the same place. It seems kind of like a minor miracle.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimers in Chapter One**

Chapter Three

When we arrive at Gregg's Pizza Fun Express, I try jump out of the car as fast as I possibly can. Before I make it out Catherine calls my name and suggests that I put back on my warm-ups over my uniform because it's getting chilly out. I stop perplexed, not at her suggestion, but at the fact that she made it.

"I'm cool," I manage to say then continue on my hurried exit, but still don't quite make it out.

"Put on your warm-ups." Catherine replies.

I quickly debate whether or not I should actually pay attention to this woman or not, but before I come to a firm conclusion Sara backs Catherine up and tells me, "Do as Catherine says."

It's the absolute shock that makes me dig into my bag and pull out my warm-ups and quickly slip them on. I'm sure when I can look at this moment with a little more clarity, I can figure out what just happened.

"Thank you," Catherine smiles at me once she sees I've done as she's said and slips out of the car. The rest of them get out of the car, but I stay in there just a moment longer still trying to figure out what has happened.

When we enter the restaurant the rest of the team is easy to spot. Most of them are wearing their warm-ups, no doubt told to by an adult, and have saved us all spots at a group of tables that have been pushed up together. They tell us that they've already ordered ten pizzas all different types.

Catherine and Sara are drawn into a conversation by some woman, whom I assume is someone's parent. She asks them how long they've been together. The question strikes me as an odd one and I would have liked to pay attention to their answer, but my hand was being pulled in the direction of some of the arcade games. When I look down to see who's doing the pulling I see Lindsey. I let her pull me to one of the air hockey games and even let her talk me into playing a game with her.

A few of my teammates follow us; I guess not wanting to join in on the adult conversations and quickly choose a side to root for. Most of them choose Lindsey. They're all a bunch of traitors.

Despite the kid's youngness, she actually manages to beat me fair and square. Christine, our team's second string point guard, pushes me out of the way and steps up for her turn. Lindsey ends up beating her too. The girl runs through another three of us before she meets someone who can beat her.

When she finally does get beaten a pout falls over her face and it's probably not a good idea for anyone to tease her. I grab Lindsey's hand and pull her away from my teammates quickly over to one of those dancing games, a game which I suck thoroughly at.

A smile lights up on Lindsey's face and I know that I'm about to get my ass kicked again. I manage to get enough tokens from those who followed us over to the new game for us to actually play it. I have Lindsey give me a quick run through on the rules then we start dancing.

It's a quick, but painless loss. Someone immediately steps up to challenge our little Dancing Queen and I can tell that Lindsey is having the time of her life.

"Your little sister is pretty cool," Rebecca says from next to me. I give her an odd look and open my mouth to set the record straight but the sound of all the parents calling us to, "Get over here and eat, immediately," takes away my chance. I make a mental note to fix the record later. I literally pull Lindsey from the game and drag her over to the food.

We're all smiling and laughing, and the parents are too. Seeing all this and being a part of it, it isn't really that bad. Even if my parents are dead and all I've got is a sister that doesn't know who I am. It's better than nothing, I guess.

I take a seat where all the other players have taken theirs. We dig into the pizzas like a pack of starved wolves. I make sure that I'm not picking from any pizzas that have any form of meat, and also make sure that Lindsey gets her fair share, then quickly dig into my own meal. I swallow three pieces within moments and quickly reach out for another.

"You don't have to eat so fast," Somehow Catherine ended up standing behind me without me noticing. She sets two cups down, one in front of me and the other in front of Lindsey. I think it's a cup of water. "You should give your stomach a chance to realize it's being fed."

I pick up the cup and start jugging the liquid down. I happen to be really thirsty too. When I put the cup down it's empty. I turn around and give Catherine a winning smile. She raises her brow and chuckles at me. She picks up my cup and walks away.

"You're such a momma's girl," Kendra, one of our post players throws her napkin at me. It lands on my empty plate. I quickly pick it up and throw it right back at her. Before I realize what kind of war I've started there're napkins being thrown all over the place, and I don't know who, but soon someone is throwing the pizza cheese then all the other toppings.

At first, I try to protect Lindsey from the storm but when she pours her water down the front of my shirt I leave her to fend for herself. Somewhere in the background I hear some of the parents yelling for us to calm down and stop throwing food. None of us are paying any attention.

I pick a wad of cheese out of my hair and cock my hand back searching for a target. I find one located a little further down the row of tables standing there looking on at us players with a hint of amusement on her face. Without thinking, and for once just living in the moment, I throw the cheese right at Sara's head.

My aim is perfect. The cheese sticks to her cheek. Her eyes widen and she turns to me. At first, I have no idea what she's going to do. Then a smile crosses her face and she picks up a full slice of pizza in her hand. I see her intent clearly and decide that I don't want to get hit in the face with her ammunition. I duck behind whoever is behind me and shove them in front of me.

Sara's ammo has already been fired and I see a look of horror cross her face. Then I look up to see who it is I pushed in front of me. Of course it's Catherine and she doesn't have time to duck or evade the pizza slice. The whole scene goes into slow motion and I see myself making an effort to grab for the pizza before it hits Catherine. My hand misses and the slice hits Catherine in the chest.

This unexpectedly leads to all the other parents picking up their own ammo and throwing it at their children. A whole new type of war is declared and poor Catherine is stuck on the wrong side.

I gave a genuine effort to protect her from my fellow basketball players, but there's only so much one person can do. It also felt kind of good for her to be pelted since she told me to put on my warm-ups earlier. It's a childish way to get back at her, but nothing about a food fight is particularly mature.

We continue the war of teenagers versus adults until the manager of the place comes out and politely asks us to stop. Out of respect for all the people who are going to have to clean this up, the parents surrender but tell us all to help out and clean up our mess. They don't do much on the clean up side, but they do really well at directing all of us.

It takes us probably a little under an hour to finish cleaning up our clutter. The management doesn't even tell us that we can never return. He just tells us to have a good night and that he'll see us again when we have another home game. I'm going to guess that he's one of our fans or maybe he just really enjoys our business.

I'm standing outside waiting for my ride and her friend and her friend's daughter to finish talking to everyone inside. Jenny comes up next to me and pulls a piece of spaghetti out of my hair. "Was anyone even eating spaghetti?" she asks as she throws the noodle to the ground.

"I don't think so. Maybe one of the employees started getting in on the fun. Towards the end I really couldn't tell." I place my hands in my warm-up jacket's pockets. It's actually getting a little chilly out here. I didn't think it actually got cold in the desert.

"We've never done that before," Jenny crosses her arms in front of her. "I think you're actually going to make us a closer team."

"You don't think your parents are angry?" The parents did join in on the fun, but that doesn't mean they still can't be angry. My parents looked fine all the time, but that didn't stop them from hurting me.

Jenny smiles. "I think this was good for everyone."

The rest of our teammates join us and somehow we end up in a circle. Lindsey even manages to wiggle herself into our semi-huddle. We all were covered in tomato sauce and looked like we had been through one tough food fight.

"What's everyone doing this weekend?" Rebecca asks.

"Homework," I say first. "Ms. Eddington decided to give us this big assignment so that she can see if we're prepared for the test."

"Ms. Eddington?" Kendra asks. "Doesn't she teach advanced Calc?"

I rock back and forth on the balls of my feet. "Yeah."

"That's it," Christine waves her hand in the air. "You're now the team's official math tutor. Most of us are just in algebra II."

"You in any other advanced classes?" This comes from Lindsey.

I shrug. "Not really. I take advanced Anatomy and Physiology, Physics II, English and Advanced Chemistry."

"So it's official," Jenny gently knocks me with her elbow. "You're the best player and the smartest person on this team. Should we start calling you Master?"

The rest of the team laughs and I feel my face turning a deep shade of red. "If you'd like," I manage to say as seriously as possible.

They immediately stop laughing, but when they realize I'm joking they all gang up on me and start slapping at my body. I fend them off as best I can but am ultimately saved by the parents actually making their ways out of the restaurant. They tell us to stop horsing around and get into the cars.

We say our goodbyes and do as we're told. I open the car door for Lindsey; she gives me a dirty look letting me clearly know that she can open her own doors, but climbs in anyway. I also open the door for Catherine, still feeling slightly guilty about what happened to her before. She accepts my offer and gets into the car. I shut the door softly and run over to the other side of the vehicle. I stop dead in my tracks when I realize Sara is holding the back door open for me.

I eventually make my body realize it's okay to climb into the vehicle and slide into the seat next to Lindsey. I mumble my thanks to Sara and she answers me with a slight smile. She gets into the driver's side and eventually we're heading out of the parking lot to a location unknown to me.

Wherever we're going, I hope it has a working shower.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimers are in Chapter One**

Chapter Four

We end up at, what I assume is Catherine's house. Sara tells me we're just going to drop them off. I don't know why, but she gets out of the car and walks them both to the door. I let them run off and look into my athletics bag. I'm hoping that I have a towel or something to wipe off my face. I'm starting to feel really sticky and it's becoming really annoying.

When I look back up Sara is headed back to the car. She jumps back into the driver's seat and starts the car back up.

"Do you have any questions?"

She sounds nervous, but I have no clue what she's talking about. "About what?" I put my face back down in my bag, wondering if I left my towel in my locker, because if I did then it's going to really start smelling bad after the weekend.

Sara sighs. "Nothing."

I lift my head from my bag and put the bag back on the floor. "Do you have a towel in here? I'm starting to feel a lot ickier than is within my comfort zone."

We pull out of the driveway. "I don't think so."

So I'm going to have to deal with being icky for a while longer. That's cool. If I can handle my father screaming at me about my worthlessness I can handle being sticky.

"So what do you think of Catherine?"

Sara's voice surprises me. I was starting to nod off in the back seat. "I'm sorry I used her as a shield," I reply through a yawn.

"She's already forgiven you for that." I can't see Sara's face, but she sounds truthful enough.

"I guess I'm also sorry that I smacked you perfectly with that cheese," I can't help the smile that crosses my face no matter how much I try to suppress it.

"I don't believe you."

I shrug even though I know she can't see me. "That's probably for the best."

We're finally someplace I recognize and I can tell we're not that far from Sara's apartment. "So do you like Catherine?"

What's so important about me liking Catherine or not? "She's cool, a little bossy, but cool. And before you ask, Lindsey's just as cool."

"Cool?" The word sounds rough coming from Sara.

"I don't hate them. I can't love them because I don't know them. They're cool." I explain. "I wouldn't be angry if we hung out with them again."

We pull into Sara's apartment complex and quickly find a parking spot. I'm out of the car before Sara can say much else to me and run ahead of her. I have a key to the apartment in my bag. The sooner I can start my shower the better.

I run into the apartment and leave the door open for Sara. I throw my bag in my room and rummage through my clothes to find some clean ones. I'm in the shower before I'm even sure Sara has made it into the apartment.

It's a harder task than I thought it would be to get all the food out of my hair, but I do manage. I'm not sure how long I'm in the shower, but eventually I hear Sara banging on the door telling me to get out. Apparently she'd like to wash the food bits off her skin too. I turn off the water and grab a towel to start drying off my body.

I step out of the shower and take my time getting myself in order before I exit the bathroom. When I finally step out Sara is standing there waiting for me.

"We've got to move to a place with more than one bathroom."

I rub the towel through my long hair one last time. "Can you afford that?"

"We can make it work," she says as she walks past me and into the bathroom. She shuts and locks the door behind her.

"I'll start an online search," I say to the door then walk away. Maybe if we move out of this hardly lived in place, I can have a room full of things that are within my tastes. I don't know what my sister was thinking, but when she decorated that guest bedroom, she probably wasn't thinking.

My guess is she used to use the room as an office before I came along. The desk is even still in there, along with the computer and bookcase bursting to the seams with science journals and other non-interesting reading material. The woman must have absolutely no life.

The towel I was using to dry my hair, I throw to the floor and walk over to the computer. I turn it on and check the cables in the back of the tower to see if I'm working with a dial-up connection. I'm not. Sara's got a cable connection. Cool.

I sit down in the only chair in front of the monitor and wait for the computer to finish booting. Sara has never directly given me permission to use her computer, but she hasn't not given me permission either. She doesn't really give me a whole lot of rules about anything.

It wouldn't really matter if she did anyway. She's never here to make sure I'm doing as she says. Plus, it's not like I'm going to do anything wild or crazy either. As much as I'd like to be rebellious, I'm too busy trying to be perfect.

When the computer is done booting, I do a Google search on available apartments in the area. Then I realize that I really don't want to live in another apartment. If I do miss one thing about living with Sara's parents it's the whole house aspect. Apartments just don't feel comfortable to me, plus I can hear that couple above us boinking all night long.

That's certainly something I never had to listen to in the house. The parents stopped having sex probably long before I was even born. It's not something that I'm about to start complaining about either, but then again maybe if they did share the physical love then they wouldn't have been so bad to me.

Who knows what it would have taken them to be better people. It certainly wouldn't have mattered if I was their own blood. It didn't seem to help Sara out all that much. She ran away from them as soon as she could. I think I can actually remember her holding me as a toddler, but it's so fuzzy that I probably made it up.

"You find anything decent yet?" Sara's voice scares me and I jump up in the chair knocking my left knee on the desk.

"Shit!" I get out of the chair and start hopping around.

"Are you okay?" Sara moves up to me and puts her hand on my shoulder causing me to stop my hopping.

"That hurt."

Sara leads me to the bed and sits me down on it. She bends down and takes a look at my knee. Her hands are warm against my skin and somewhat comforting.

"Doesn't look like anything is severely damaged."

"Better not be," I pull away from her a bit. "I can't play with a bum knee."

Sara gets up from the floor and sits on the bed next to me. "You really enjoy playing, don't you?"

"It's my ticket," I say softly. "It's what's going to get me away from this family."

"Melinda, they're dead. You don't have to plan your big getaway anymore."

"Doesn't matter," I bend my knee experimentally then relax it. "I don't want to be a part of this family anymore. As soon as I'm able, I'm going to change my last name and do my best to forget I was ever a Sidle."

Sara turns her head to her lap where her hands are wringing together. "Were they really that bad to you?"

I get off the bed and move a couple of steps away from this heart wrenching moment. She doesn't get to talk to me about them now. She left me with them alone. The past doesn't matter anymore. "What do you care how they were to me?"

"I do care," she tells me softly lifting her head to meet my gaze.

"Bullshit. If you cared then you would have visited a little more than never. If you actually wanted to be my sister than you would have pretended to give a damn before I got thrown in your lap because they died. Play your lies somewhere else. They don't sound so real to me." I walk angrily out of the room, hoping she doesn't follow me. I don't feel like having an explosive confrontation with her.

Things seem to work out a lot better when we don't talk.

I walk to the kitchen and open up the refrigerator. I'm still really hungry. Most of the food we ordered ended up being thrown and not a lot of it ended up in my stomach. I rummage through the fridge, but quickly realize that we have absolutely nothing to eat. Sara doesn't go shopping a whole lot and I don't have a car or money to go do the shopping. I do have my license but it's still a California one. I'm going to have to get that changed at sometime.

I close the refrigerator door and turn back towards the living room. Sara's again standing there waiting for me to face her. Why does she do that? Can't she announce her presence like normal people do?

"I really do care," she tells me.

"Whatever." I move to walk past her but she grabs my arm and stops me. I look down at her like she's gone crazy.

"You don't know anything about what happened. They kicked me out of the house."

She looks upset. I think she might even start crying. I can't really bring myself to care at the moment. "And you left me there, knowing who they were."

"What did you expect?" Her grip tightens just a bit on my arm. "I was seventeen."

I rip my arm from her grip. "I was two. Tell me, which one of us do you think had more power at the time?"

Her answer is her silence. "I thought so." Again I walk away from her. I go back to my temporary room and am happy to find a lock on the door. I lock it and turn off the lights. The computer is still on, but I don't mess with it. I climb into the bed and hope I'll be able to sleep. Maybe I'll sleep far enough into the day that I won't even have to see big sis tomorrow.

It's surprising that we can go from kind of getting along to not getting along at all so quickly. For someone I haven't ever lived with at all, and only had partial contact with, she sure does rub me the wrong way. The only clue I ever had that she existed was the birthday and Christmas card I got every year. She usually put money inside.

So I can't see how it comes as a surprise to her that I really don't want to be a part of this family anymore. I don't want to have anything to do with them. I don't even want the name anymore. I want to get away from all of it. I think after the hell I had to go through as a kid, I deserve at least the small courtesy of being able to walk away.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"You want me to do what now?" I'm about to put a forkful of melon in my mouth but quickly stop. Sara and I haven't talked about anything that happened last night. It's better left alone; at least that's what I think.

"I would like you to stay with Lindsey tonight for Catherine so that her sister doesn't have to do it," Sara repeats herself.

I honestly don't know how to respond to this. I've got nothing.

"It would help Catherine out a lot."

I don't think my lingering guilt over the food fight last night is enough for me to volunteer to watch a child. "How old is Lindsey?"

"She's thirteen."

"Is there money in it for me?"

Sara's shoulders sag and she looks terribly disappointed in me. "There can be."

"But you'd rather I do it out of the kindness of my heart? Give up a Saturday to spend with a thirteen year old when I'm sixteen, all from the kindness of my heart?"

Sara chuckles. "When you put it that way… we can work out a payment plan."

"Good." I pop the melon that is still on the end of my fork in my mouth. When I swallow I tell Sara that I have to be paid at least eight dollars an hour. Sara chokes on her cantaloupe.

"Is that the going rate for babysitters?" She asks through her coughs.

"I think it's fair since I'm giving up my entire night and part of my morning. I even have to make sure the kid eats at least two meals. I don't like cooking meat. Kids always want to eat meat."

"What if I pay you four and Catherine pays the other four?"

"You can divide it however you'd like, as long as it adds up to eight dollars an hour."

"You've got yourself a deal."

"Good." I pop the last piece of fruit in my mouth then stand up and bring my plate to the sink. I clean it off and stick it in the dishwasher.

"You going somewhere?" Sara thinks to ask me as I make my way to the front door.

"Jenny is going to pick me up. I'm going to hang out with her and some of my other teammates today. I'll make sure I'm at Catherine's by five."

"Don't you think you should ask me if you can go out before you make plans to?"

Oh cute. She's trying to be authoritative. "Not really." I shake my head. "You're never around for me to ask you anything." I don't wait for her to respond, I just walk out the apartment door. I did promise her that I'd be at Catherine's in time. That has to mean something to her.

Jenny picks me up in the front of the apartment complex. I jump into her passenger seat and we're off to Rebecca's house. When they told me I was their new math tutor they weren't lying. Apparently some of the team members were having problems passing some of their classes and if they didn't pass that meant they didn't play.

I would have told Sara about all this, but it's best when Sara and I really don't talk. If I told her about this, we'd probably end up fighting about the merits of Occam's Razor. When we spend too much time in the same place it just seems like we explode.

Within no time we're at Rebecca's and so is about half of the team. I hope I'm not expected to help out all of them. Hopefully some of them are here just to hang out for a while. I can't tutor the entire team. That would leave me for no time to do my own work.

Rebecca opens the door for us and leads us to the family room. There's food sitting out on the table, and that's where I head to first.

"Melinda, you're eating like all the time. You got some kind of disease?" Christina asks me from the other side of the room.

"No. I'm just hungry a lot. I'm a growing girl." I smile between bites.

"You grow anymore and you'll be able to reach the basket by lifting your arms. You're already six feet tall." Rebecca calls from the single couch in the room.

"Any way I can raise my stats." I shrug and pick up another sandwich from the plate. "Thanks for making these vegetarian by the way," I say holding up the sandwich.

"You know, that's probably why you're hungry all the time," Kendra adds from her position on the floor near the window. "You need a good piece of meat to fill you up."

"Why don't you eat meat anyway?" Jenny asks. "Not that I have anything against it. I was thinking about going vegetarian a while back but decided against it. I like meat."

"You're going to think I'm stupid and laugh," I nibble on my sandwich even though I want to stuff the whole thing in my mouth. But they wouldn't be able to understand me if I did that.

I hear a course of denials and one resounding, "Of course we will," from LaTasha our second string shooting guard. At least she's honest.

"Okay, but you really are going to laugh." I put the rest of the sandwich in my mouth and swallow as quickly as I can. "Charlotte's Web."

"Charlotte's Web?" A group of voices asks.

"Yeah that book about the pig who didn't want to become food and the spider that helped him. I read it when I was young and decided I couldn't eat Wilber anymore." I pick up another sandwich and quickly stuff it in my mouth.

The laughs did come as I expected they would. It wasn't harsh laughter and was quickly followed with a bunch of aww that's sweet'. Everyone has to have a soft side right?

"So do you mind if other people eat meat?" Rebecca eventually asks.

"No. Not eating meat is my personal choice. I don't expect everyone else to have the same. Eat all the meat you want, just don't name your pork Wilber."

My teammates laugh and every one of them except Jenny pulls out a sandwich full of meat. "We were hoping you wouldn't mind."

"Funny." I try not to smile, but end up failing. "You're all a bunch of freaking comediennes."

"We kid because we love," LaTasha said with a mouth fool of meaty sandwich.

Eventually they manage to put all the kidding the new girl' aside and pull out their math and science books. We try setting up a system so that people who know what they are doing are helping those that don't and that I'm only helping those who really need it.

The studying goes well for about two hours, but eventually the system breaks down and working turns into talking about things that don't relate to math, science or any school subject at all. There's not even any talk about basketball.

"So how did your parents die?" LaTasha sits down next me and gives me her full attention. Those teammates which heard her question throw pillows at her and yell at her for her insensitivity.

I admire her boldness. Everyone in this room probably wants to know the answer to her question, but she's the only one that has asked.

"It was a car accident," I keep my voice steady and distant. "They got hit by a truck whose tire had a blow out. Their car got slammed against that concrete barrier and they were basically crushed."

"That's horrible." Jenny says.

"That's awful." Rebecca adds.

"Did they die instantly?" Comes from LaTasha.

"No." If possible my voice gets even more distant. "My father died later at the hospital. My mother was put on life support, but she was brain dead so I," my voice breaks and I'm surprised by it. I'm not supposed to care about what happened. I shouldn't feel bad about anything. I hated them. I've always hated them.

I feel a couple of hands land on my back. "You don't have to continue." LaTasha tells me. "It's okay."

My adopted parents will not make me weak again. I will not feel for them. "My mother was on life support, so I had to decide to pull her off. I signed those papers giving them permission to let her die."

"Why didn't your sister do it?" Jenny asks. "She's the older one."

I swallow down the lump in my throat. They don't deserve my tears. "She wasn't there. She doesn't even know what happened. It took me forever to just find a number to contact her."

"Shouldn't you tell her this," Kendra stumbles over her words. "It's kind of important."

I shrug. "We don't talk." I stand up and brush off my clothes. There's nothing on them, but I had nothing better to do. "Excuse me." I walk out of the room and head towards the nearest exit. If I don't get some air soon, I think I'm actually going to start crying and I don't cry.

I make it to the backdoor of Rebecca's house and make my exit. There's a bench out there and I take a seat and am quickly joined by a big dog. He or she sets her head on my lap. I reach my hand out and start petting the canine.

I'm not really into dogs and can't tell the difference between a Poodle and a Pit Bull. This isn't that bad of a dog though. I should definitely look into getting me one of these. It will have to take a while, though. I'm pretty sure that colleges don't let dogs into dorm rooms. I wouldn't have time to take care of a dog anyway. I hear they're high maintenance.

The back door opens and Rebecca joins me on the bench. "I'm surprised Nala didn't bark at you. She gets kind of protective sometimes. You must be really good with animals."

"Not really," I continue running my hand through Nala's fur. "I've never had any pets."

"Are you serious?" Rebecca seems surprised by this.

"Of course I am."

"What kind of deprived child are you?"

She's joking, but it's not really funny if one was to really think about it. "Very," I reply softly.

"I'm sorry," Rebecca whispers. "I really didn't mean anything by that."

I shrug. "It's not your fault my family sucks."

"If it means anything, my parents think that your sister seems to care a lot about you."

I grunt. "Sure."

The backdoor opens again and Jenny comes and sits back on the other side of me. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I just needed some air."

"The whole team is really sorry if we said anything,"

I don't let Jenny finish. "They didn't do anything. I guess everything was just a lot closer to the surface than I thought it was."

"Well if you ever need anything the entire team is so totally here for you," Rebecca says. "I mean, you're our Master."

I don't know why I start laughing, but I do. Unfortunately, since laughing and crying aren't so far apart my laughter quickly turns to tears. The last time I cried was when Mom was yelling at me and telling me that I was a failure just like Sara. She was slapping me at the time. Is it any wonder I didn't cry at their funeral?

Rebecca and Jenny wrap their arms around me and we make an awkward three person hug. The backdoor opens once again, and our three person hug grows into a five person hug, then a six person hug.

We really are quite the team.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

As I said I would be, I end up at Catherine's house exactly at five pm. I really didn't remember how to get to her house, so I did have to call for directions and got lost once, but I ended up making it on time. Jenny drops me off in front and tells me she'll see me at school on Monday.

I knock on the front door of the house and wait patiently on the other side. Sara's car isn't here, so I assume that the two are going to meet up at work. I guess they don't believe in saving the environment through carpooling.

Catherine opens the door and opens her arms to me like she's going to hug me. It's very unsettling. I don't really know this woman, and she's hugging me. I'm a firm believer in personal space, but I don't want to be rude so I attempt to hug her back. It's more than a little awkward.

When we pull apart Catherine tells me to come into the house and I do. She shuts the door behind me and starts asking me questions about my day and what it was I did. I know in the real world these really aren't odd questions, but it feels weird for her to be asking them. I don't really know this woman.

"I helped the team study. It was good." My IQ must drop at least twenty to a hundred points when I'm around this woman. It's odd. It's not like I feel nervous, I just turn stupid.

"What did you help them with?" She sounds genuinely interested.

"Stuff."

She smiles at me. "What kind of stuff?"

"Algebra, chemistry, physics, and biology?"

She looks surprised. "Really?"

I nod.

"Does Sara know this?"

What does that matter? "I didn't tell her. I don't think she'd really care whether I'm tutoring people or not."

"Not about the tutoring, not that she wouldn't care about that, but about your classes?"

"Why would she need to know?" The entire concept of this conversation escapes me. Sara and I don't talk. This is something that people are going to have to understand. I've had a life separate of her for just about sixteen years. I'm fine with that lasting until one of us dies.

"Because I think she would be really proud to hear it. Whether you think she does or not, Sara cares about your life."

I can't help but laugh. What does this woman know about Sara or me for that matter? "Sara can be proud of me all she wants," I say when I stop laughing. "But it all just comes a little too late."

Catherine sighs heavily. "You should really give Sara a chance."

"I plan on being around for another two years. That's it. There's no point in trying to mend fences that never existed in the first place."

"She's the only family you have."

I laugh again. "Well that's a lie. She's not my family. She's a woman who got stuck with caring for a girl her parents adopted. Ask her anything about me. She probably couldn't answer you. Families are supposed to know shit about each other."

"Please don't use that language with me," Catherine says sternly. "It's not very respectful."

"Who are you?" I ask incredulously. "I mean, who are you?"

"I'm someone who cares about you and Sara." Catherine's eyes bore into mine. "I'm someone that wants to help."

I shake my head. "Hey, whatever. I mean, I don't want to be disrespectful to you or anything, but you don't know me."

"But I do want to know you."

"Why?" This woman has an angle and I'm going to figure it out. People her age just don't go around trying to befriend people my age. It doesn't happen.

"Because I care." She smiles and it confuses me even more. This subject is best left to die.

"Look, I appreciate it but it doesn't really matter. To me," I put my hand on my chest. "You're just some woman who happens to be friends with my sister. If you really want to know, that doesn't give you points in my book."

"Melinda, I can't even imagine the kind of life you've had, and I really don't think you can imagine Sara's either. You really need to give her a chance."

I drop my gaze to the ground. I don't want to look at her anymore. "How many chances do you think a person should get before they run out?" I don't give her a chance to answer. "When I was five I wrote Sara asking her to take me away. I told her Mom and Dad were mean." Damn I will not cry. "I never heard anything from her. I even told her to mail her response to a friend's house so Mom or Dad couldn't throw it away. When I was seven, I wrote her and told her that I really wanted her to come home. I never heard anything. I don't know how many times I've tried to contact her and couldn't reach her. Do you know that the cards she sent me never had a return address on them? She's run out of chances with me, Friend of Sara."

My eyes are daring her to say something to me. I want to see her try and defend Sara's actions.

She turns away from me. "I should get going to work." Yeah it's best that she runs away. "Lindsey is upstairs avoiding me, and there's food in the fridge."

"Have a good night at work," I walk her to the door. "Be careful."

I think my words surprise her because she looks at me confused. She's probably not used to being around someone who can switch their emotions off and on so quickly. "It's amazing," she says.

"What?"

She shakes her head. "Nothing." She walks out the door and I lock it behind her. There's something I'm not quite grasping floating around here and it's starting to annoy me.

I make my way up the stairs and make a guess that Lindsey's room is the one that has pop music blaring from it. The door is closed so I knock loudly on it wanting to be heard over the music.

A muffled voice from inside yells at me to go away, but I completely ignore it. I open the door and see Lindsey sprawled out across her bed. "Did you say come in?" I ask with a smile.

"Melinda?" She lifts her head off the bed so that she can get a better look at me. "I thought you were Mom."

"Well I'm definitely not," I sit down on the bed next to Lindsey's head. "So what's up?"

"Mom said I was grounded for talking back to her." She's pouting.

"Well what were you talking back to her about?"

"She said Sara should be the one to tell you about them but I said I should do it because if we left it up to Sara she'd never say anything. It took her forever to even talk to me about it."

A million words run through my mind and I am able to grasp onto one. "What?"

Lindsey's eyes widen and she slams her hand over her mouth. "Uh oh."

I feel like I'm having one of those cartoon moments of a light bulb going off above my head. "No shit," I say to myself. "I am so blind."

"You can't tell them I told you," Lindsey says quickly, "because I really didn't tell you."

"It's okay," I chuckle a little. "You won't get in trouble, I promise. We can just let them assume I actually got a clue and figured it out myself."

"So you don't care?" Lindsey sits up in her bed. "Because I think it's kind of cool. Sara's always been one of the best adults I know."

Do I care? "I don't think it matters if I care or not. Sara's always been really good at having her own life separate from what I think."

"So you're not angry?"

"At you? No."

"How about Sara or Mom?"

"I'm not really angry at them either." Of course I'm angry at them. How many opportunities did Sara have to tell me that she was not straight? We've had breakfast a total of three times this past week alone, and most of that time spent was in silence. It's a lot like that commercial of that father and son eating cereal together and when the father's done he gets up and walks away and that ad comes up saying another missed opportunity to talk to your kids about drugs or something. I can't even believe I remember that commercial.

"Are you sure?"

I rub Lindsey's head. "Of course I'm sure. There's nothing for me to be angry about."

"Well Mom says that sometimes people can react badly to them being together. I've even seen it happen."

"They're happy right?" Sara gets the chance at happiness. That's what she left home for, right?

"I think so," Lindsey says hesitantly. "I mean they have been. They did fight a little before you came."

What the hell about? Who was going to actually get to keep me? How much neither of them wanted me around? "Why'd they fight?"

Lindsey shrugs. "I don't know. They never let me stay around for the fights."

Of course they didn't. That would be setting a bad example or some other nonsense like that. People always have to protect the young. It seems like Sara can actually grasp that concept when it doesn't pertain to me.

"Why don't we cook up some dinner?" I get off Lindsey's bed and walk over to the door. "I'm getting hungry." There's no point in me continuing this line of conversation with her. She probably doesn't know that much, and plus it really doesn't involve her. It kind of just includes my sister and me and her brilliant inability to communicate with me.

Within moments Lindsey is standing right next to me and looks ready to go downstairs and get food. I don't know what it is, but something about this kid actually makes me kind of like her. I still need to get paid for watching her, but maybe tonight won't be like a death sentence.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Lindsey really wanted me to sleep with her in her room, and I would have done it, if the kid didn't insist on asking ten thousand questions at the speed of light. I didn't even feed her any type of sugar at all. I think her normal mode of operation is just a smidge above hyperactive. I don't think I was ever that energetic as a kid. Of course, I had my reasons why I couldn't be.

The good thing is that once I got Lindsey to take a shower and into bed, she fell right asleep. Apparently making her stop for a few seconds is a good way of making her pass out. That's something I'm going to have to remember.

So now it's early in the morning, and I haven't slept at all. I'm laying on the couch in the living room flipping through early Sunday morning cartoons. I haven't watched cartoons in years, and I think they've actually gotten worse. Since when did everything turn into Extreme and Turbo?

It really is unfortunate, but I can't sleep. I've spent the entire night, sitting here and waiting to figure out exactly what it is I should say to Sara when I see her next. I've been bouncing between saying absolutely nothing and saying absolutely nothing. I'm not too sure how well that's worked out thus far, and Lindsey is bound to say something to one of them. Lindsey tends to talk a whole lot. Her mouth is far ahead of her brain a lot of times.

I hear the lock in the front door turning and quickly turn off the television and pretend to be asleep. There's no reason to let the adults know I've been up all night not being able to sleep. Catherine might be the type that would want to have a long conversation about what's been troubling my mind.

"Do you think they're asleep?" I hear Sara's voice ask softly.

"Probably," Catherine's responds. "They probably wore each other out."

"They do seem to get along."

"You seem surprised by that."

Sara must have made some sort of nonverbal response or spoke really softly because I hear Catherine's voice again. "You're jealous of Lindsey."

"When I see Melinda around other people she smiles. When she turns to me she's always angry."

Now that's not true. I'm not always angry when I turn to her, and I'm pretty sure that when I threw that pizza cheese on her face I was smiling.

"Sweetheart, she just doesn't know how to respond to you," Catherine offers.

Of course I know how to respond to her. Catherine doesn't know what she's talking about.

"Well I don't know how to respond to her either."

"It's amazing how alike you two are."

"Please don't say that," Sara pleads and I'm guessing because she can't imagine us being anything alike because she doesn't want to have anything to do with me. Not that I particularly think that we're anything alike either, but she doesn't have to feel the same way.

"Did you know she's in advanced math and science classes?" Catherine asks gently.

"Really?" Sara sounds surprised. She probably thought I was just a stupid jock.

"She was tutoring her basketball team yesterday."

Okay so that little voice in my head is starting to yell at me saying that this pretending thing of being asleep is wrong. It's probably even a little more wrong that they don't seem to even know I'm on the couch able to hear their entire conversation.

"I'm up," the words escape my mouth before I give my mouth full permission to say them. I sit up on the couch so that they can see me. "I would suggest you stop the private conversation thing."

"What are you doing up so early?" Catherine asks.

"I didn't ever go to sleep," I admit slowly.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" She then asks.

I run my hand through my disheveled hair. "I got a clue last night." I stand up from the couch and walk over to them both. I kind of get a kick out of the fact that I'm taller than both of them. "You are a couple, right?"

Sara turns away from me, but Catherine doesn't. "Yes we are. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Is that why Mom and Dad kicked you out of the house?" I ask Sara completely ignoring Catherine's question. I don't even know why she's still standing here looking ready for a fight. My fight has never been with her. I hardly even know her.

Sara lifts her head up to look at me, but quickly looks away again. "That was part of it."

"Yeah," I snort. "They hated queers."

"Melinda," Catherine tone is chastising. I'll just continue ignoring her.

"They told me I should hate your kind, gave me all kinds of reasons why."

"Melinda," Catherine tries again, but I'm already too far gone.

"They told me I better be happy that I wasn't of your flesh because then I had less of a chance of being a dyke just like you." Catherine tries to grab my arm but I step out of her reach. "I must be a stupid as they said I was, because I couldn't figure it out. I just thought that them saying you were queer was just another one of their lies they'd use to fuck with my head."

"Stop it." Sara finally raises her eyes and looks straight at me.

"I just want to know how much it is you did that made them want to completely mess me up. How much of what they did to me was actually payback to you?"

Sara keeps her eyes glued to mine. "I don't know."

"I didn't really think you would." I turn away from her and walk to the front door. I really need to get out of here. It just really hurts to be in Sara's presence.

"Melinda, stop walking away." Sara calls to my back.

My hand is on the doorknob. I turn to face her but keep my hand in place. "I'm just following the Sidle tradition." I swing open the door and quickly walk through it, closing it firmly behind me. I don't really know where I am and I don't have money on me, but I can't walk back inside either. It would mess up my big exit.

I choose a direction and decide to start running that way. I know that Sara or Catherine is bound to come after me, but I don't have to make finding me very easy. I've been an athlete for a long time; I can run for a while without stopping.

Back home when I couldn't stand being alone with the parents anymore, I'd go out jogging. I'd run around for hours. It didn't make me feel better at all. I always ended up at the same place I started. I returned, weaker, and more tired. I never came back stronger.

It's not my intent to really come back stronger this time either. I just want to get away. If I could, I'd run all the way out of this city, this state, this family, and I'd never look back. Unfortunately, the big government types say I can't safely do that until I'm eighteen.

Two years. That's a pretty good mantra. I have to hold out for two more years. After that, I don't have to deal with any of this ever again. I might even be able to come across as something other than a total bitch.

It's not like I don't see how I act or what I say to Sara. I see it. I see it and I don't know how to stop it. The worst part of that is that I sound like our parents.

This thought stops me right in my tracks. It's like a very cold shower. I promised myself that I'd never be anything like them. I promised myself that I wouldn't make people feel so bad. I never want to be like them.

They were angry bastards. I don't even understand why they were angry half the time. I could do everything perfectly and they'd still be angry. Nothing was good enough for them. Mom couldn't even leave me peace in her death. She had to add on the extra guilt of making me pull the plug.

I drop to my knees on the cement. I'm in the middle of some street. Maybe a car will come and run me over. That seems like kind of a good idea right now. I wouldn't have to worry about getting over my memories. I wouldn't have to worry about getting past everything that's happened to me. It would just stop.

Sara wouldn't even have to worry about telling me her secrets anymore. She could keep them to herself. Everything that happened between her and the parents could just stay with her. I wouldn't be around needing explanations. I don't think dead, I would really care about this whole abandonment issue I've got going on.

If reincarnation is real, I could come back to a better set of parents. I could have a life that didn't suck so much. Then again, I could always come back as the type of person who raised my parents. That's a really depressing thought.

Oh hey, there's a car coming. So if I don't survive getting hit, then I'm not going to have to deal with anything. If the car brakes then I'll get up and try and figure something out. There's nothing quite like leaving things up to fate.

My eyes are staring down the headlights and they're almost blinding me. Closing my eyes would make me a chicken. I'm staring this thing right down.

The car brakes well in front of me. They have enough room to speed up a little and brake before they even have a chance of hitting me. I probably should have chosen a busier street.

The driver's side door opens, but I don't look up to see who the driver is. It doesn't really matter. Fate's told me I've got to figure something out. I knew there was a reason I don't like the Fates or ancient Greek mythology for that matter.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Fate even saw fit that it would be Sara that saw me kneeling in the middle of the street. "I'm interested in street building," I laugh at the irony of my life and stand up. "What did it look like I was doing?"

"Do you think this is a joke?" Sara is standing right in front of me now. She looks upset. She even looks like she's crying or at least was crying.

My lack of sleep must be making me hallucinate. "Funny?" I shake my head. "Not really. I think it's an act of desperation."

Sara caresses my cheek with the palm of her hand. It seems like her body has deflated somehow. "I'm so sorry."

"You shouldn't be. You've been right about a lot of things. I was never your responsibility. They kicked you out of the house. I'm surprised they even allowed me to get your birthday and Christmas cards." I step away from her. "I should tell you I'm sorry. I haven't been fair to you."

Sara stares at me for a very long time. "I really think we need to talk."

Well those are doomsday words if I ever heard any. I nod and make my way to the vehicle that didn't run over me. I get in the passenger side and put on my seatbelt. Sara's in the car moments after me. She puts the car in drive and we're moving our way out of wherever it is I managed to run to.

We don't talk.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

We end up sitting in silence in Sara's living room. She's sat me down on the couch and is sitting next to me. She's sitting a lot closer than she normally does. It kind of freaks me out.

This is so not going to be a good conversation.

"So Catherine tells me that you're into science?"

That's her lead question? This is going to be bad because Sara is pealing the tape off slowly instead of all at once. "I don't know if I'm really into science." I shrug. "I'm good at it."

"You seem to be good a lot of things."

The compliment rubs me the wrong way, and I'm not quite sure why. I guess it could be because I'm not sure if she means it or not. I'm used to backhanded compliments only. "Thanks."

"So have you thought of where you want to go to college?"

Oh Sara come on! "I'm willing to go to whoever wants to give me a full ride."

"You know if you need help with college, I'm more than willing to help out."

She should have definitely just run me over with her car. It would have been less painful. "I appreciate that." There's nothing quite like forced politeness.

"It's good that you're looking towards your future."

"Sara, I know you don't want to talk about my future right now. Please stop torturing me and start talking about whatever it is you said we needed to talk about," I say in a rush. I haven't gotten any sleep and I'm really tense. I don't have the energy to play games with big sister.

"Okay," Sara rubs her hands together. "Mom and Dad did kick me out because they found out I was gay."

"About that," I scratch my forehead. "I'm really sorry about what I said before. I think it's cool you've got happiness with someone. I don't care if you're gay or not."

Sara releases a quick smile, but her nervousness comes back really quickly. "Thank you, for saying that."

"A Sidle can only wish for a little bit of happiness, right?"

Sara gives a sardonic chuckle. "I guess."

"I don't really know why I talk to you like I do," I admit and it isn't an easy admission. "I get near you and I just get angry. I don't know how to talk to you."

"I don't know how to talk to you either."

"Hey," I give her a weak smile. "Then we have something else in common."

"Yeah," Sara says through a sigh. "You're a lot more like me than I thought you would be."

"What are the odds of that?" I give a crooked grin. "We don't even carry the same genes."

Sara takes a really deep breath and releases it really slowly. "We actually do."

I stop breathing. "I thought… I thought I was adopted."

Sara closes her eyes and drops her head. "Mom and Dad did adopt you when you were born."

My brain's trying to tell me something, but it definitely has to be wrong on this one. "So I'm a distant cousin?"

Sara opens her eyes, but still doesn't look at me. "You're my daughter."

I open my mouth to speak but my voice doesn't work. I clear my throat and swallow a few dozen times. "How?" My body's shaking but not nearly as much as my voice.

"I was raped when I was fifteen. I had you when I was sixteen."

Wow do I have a lot of questions about this. Now if I could only get my thoughts together enough to ask one of them.

"When you were born, I put you up for adoption. Mom and Dad decided it would be best they adopt you."

"You didn't agree?"

"No," Sara shakes her head. "I didn't agree. It was very difficult for me to be around you. It still is."

"Because I remind you of being raped?" I'm starting to feel sick.

"Yes," she whispers.

"Oh." I lick my lips. My mouth has gone really dry. "So uh… did they ever catch my um… the guy?"

Sara blinks rapidly a few times. "No."

"He must have been really tall." Please, don't let me have said that out loud. Now probably isn't the time to be asking details about my father, the father who happens to be a rapist.

"He was," Sara's voice cracks.

Okay so I did talk stupidly aloud again. "So let me see if I understand this." I clear my throat and run my hand through my hair. I also make an effort to move a bit away from Sara. "When you were fifteen," I say very slowly. "You were raped by a tall man. When you were sixteen, you had a kid resulting from that rape and it happens to have been me. Then your parents who happen to actually be my grandparents, adopted your unwanted child—again that child being me—and you didn't want them to because the child reminded you of being raped. So you eventually get kicked out of the house because you're gay, and leave me there with your parents. You run away and you make a life for yourself and only send your daughter—again your daughter being me—Christmas and birthday cards with money inside sans any real attachment."

"It's not…" Sara stumbles over her words. "It's not like that."

"It must have been really something for you when I called and told you that they were dead, because that meant you couldn't avoid me anymore. It kind of meant that you had to be a direct part of my life for the next two years."

"It's not like that." Sara says again, but stronger this time.

I drop my head in my hands. "I was really hoping that you being gay was the big secret; because I knew there was something terribly off within my universe. I was just too stupid to figure it out."

"Don't say that."

"Say what?"

"Don't say that you're stupid. You're not stupid."

I have officially reached my I can't take it any longer' point. This is information that definitely needs to be thoroughly digested. I can't even make myself have a reaction to this news right now. It seems too unreal to actually be real.

"I have to go," I stand up from the couch unsure of where exactly I can go to.

Sara stands up with me. "Where are you going?"

I take a quick look around and even spin in a complete circle. "I'm going to go to my room." I point in its general direction. "I'm going to go in there and lock the door and probably go to sleep on the bed."

Sara looks almost as shocked as I am. "You're not going to hurt yourself are you?"

"I don't think so, no."

"Okay," Sara nods. "Take all the time you need."

"Thanks." I don't know why but I pat her on the shoulder before I walk away. It's not a buddy type pat, just more of a way for me to figure out that she's a real person. It's good to know that I'm not hallucinating, I think.

When I get to my temporary room, I do exactly as I said I would. I lock the door and go straight to the bed. I lay down and my brain starts running through the conversation I just had with my sister, who happens to not so much be my sister.

Sara is my birth parent and I'm her unwanted offspring. I don't think I really wanted to know this. This isn't something I think is going to help me out any. I mean, my father is a rapist. My mother really didn't want me, and my grandparents took me because I guess in some way they thought that was the right thing to do.

It's completely ironic that I never desired to know who my birth parents were. I always assumed they were young parents who couldn't handle having a child. I figured they went on with their lives and were happy.

Sure sometimes I wondered what they looked like. Sometimes I wondered if they were smart or average. I wondered if they had other kids.

I never wanted to find them, though. I never wanted to have to deal with them telling me that I was unwanted. I would have rather dreamed up perfect parents to counteract my unfit ones.

So my parents, they were actually flesh and blood. They were my grandparents and maybe they hated me because I reminded them so much of their daughter.

It's moments like this that I really believe in abortion. My life would have been so much simpler if I had just never been born.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

I don't know how, but I actually managed to fall asleep. An insistent knocking on the door wakes me up. I try to believe that everything that I know happened really didn't happen, but I can't delude myself like that. I've never had that good of an imagination. I've always been too technical, have always had too much of a scientific brain. I probably understood the Scientific Method before I could even speak.

I swing my legs off the bed and make an effort to stand up. My body aches. I feel like I've just come out of an intense three hour workout. There's no reason why I should be this sore, but then again there's no reason why any of this should be happening.

Eventually I make my way over to the door and unlock it. I swing it open and am only mildly surprised to see Catherine standing across from me. I expected her to show up eventually. She's probably going to yell at me for something. She yells at me a lot and seems to really like telling me what to do.

I turn away from her and lay back down on the bed. If she's going to start nagging at me then I'm going to get comfortable first.

Catherine walks into the room and shuts the door softly behind her. She comes and sits next to me on the bed. "So how are you doing?"

"Did you know?" I ask. "Did you know that she was my mother?"

"Yes. I knew."

That's not really surprising. Catherine probably knows everything about Sara. She certainly knows more about my own mother than I do. I just found out a couple of hours ago that Sara was even my mother.

"Do you think she should have told me?"

"That's a really hard question to answer."

"It is. I can't even answer it."

"So how are you doing?" Catherine asks me again. "Sara said you've been locked up in this room for six hours."

"Six hours?" I lift my head and look around for the nearest clock. I'm really surprised I was able to sleep for that long.

"That's a long time to be alone." Catherine replies.

I shrug. "I was sleeping."

"You actually fell asleep?" She seems surprised. I guess people in her world don't sleep.

"That's what I said I was going to do."

"Okay. So how are you doing?"

She's really not going to let this question go is she? "I don't know." I say honestly.

"Well what do you think about what Sara told you?"

"Did Sara send you in here?" I slide away from her.

"She's worried about you."

That's certainly something new. "If Sara wants to know how I'm doing, she can talk to me herself." I turn my back on Catherine hoping she gets my message and goes away.

"If that's what you want." I feel the bed shift and hear the door opening. I think Catherine may actually be going to get Sara. I'm not ready to talk to Sara yet. I'm not really ready to talk to anyone yet. I'd rather just be left alone. I feel like I could fall asleep for another six hours.

I hear someone at the doorway and when I turn around Sara is standing in there looking no more ready to talk than I am. Catherine is standing behind her. This time I manage to not be surprised by Sara's lurking behavior. I sit up on the bed and Sara comes fully into the room. She takes a seat at the computer chair across from me. Catherine doesn't move.

"Are you going to play moderator?" I ask Catherine. I'm still not sure why she's even here, although I logically know why she's here. This doesn't really involve her. Well unless of course there's another big secret about how Catherine is my uncle or something.

"I want to make sure things don't get too out of hand." She replies.

"I'm not going to attack her or anything." I say defensively. "I haven't quite managed to get that trait from my parents yet."

I see Sara flinch in the corner of my eye. I wasn't talking about her. I was actually talking about the people who raised me… but I don't think that would make things better for her.

"Words can hurt just as badly as fists." Catherine spares a quick look towards Sara, but for the most part her attention is on me.

Who is this woman? She sounds like an after-school special. Worse yet, she sounds like a parent, a parent that actually gives a damn and wants to be involved and want to limit my freedom. "So when did you decide you wanted to be my new mom?"

I think the question throws her off. It's not something I even expected to say, but it's not really something I can avoid asking about forever. Catherine has been giving me the parental treatment basically ever since I've met her. She's actually acted more like a mom than the woman who raised me ever acted.

"I'm not trying to be your mom, Melinda." Catherine steps into the room and takes a seat on the bed. I guess she has decided to be a part of this conversation. "I'm trying to show you that I care."

Again with the caring business. That line is starting to get old. But hey, if she thinks it's working for her then who am I to tell her otherwise? She can play that same line all night long if she really wants to.

"So how are you doing?" Sara seems to still have the ability to speak.

"I feel like I'm a really big worthless unwanted stain in this world." I'm not going to lie about anything. There's no point in it really. Sara knows that I tried to get run over by a car, despite how pathetic the attempt truly was. I'm sure she's realized that I'm definitely not okay.

"Mel, you're not a stain," Sara says strongly. "You're a really good kid, and you're not worthless."

Kid? Lindsey's a kid. I'm not a kid. "Sara, you didn't want me. Mom and Dad didn't want me. I'm pretty sure that my biological father doesn't want me. I can't even figure out why you decided to have me."

"I had you because I couldn't kill the life inside me. I knew it would turn out to be a very special person." Sara reaches out for me and takes my hand. She's shaking. "I wanted you to have a good life that didn't involve a messed up parent."

"But I got stuck with your parents."

"I couldn't do anything about that, and I think a part of me really wanted you to be a part of my life."

"You just didn't want me to be your daughter." I try to not sound mean, but I can't really help it. It hurts when your mother tells you she didn't want you.

Sara squeezes my hand. "I couldn't be your mother."

"Melinda, she was sixteen," Catherine says gently from beside me.

"I know you probably can't understand that," Sara moves from the chair so that she is sitting next to me.

I probably understand more about making hard decisions at the age of sixteen than she realizes. I've been making hard decisions ever since I was left alone with my grandparents. I've been put in a position of hard decisions for a while now.

As long as we're being honest with each other, "Do you want to know what happened to your parents?" I ask. "Do you want to know the full story? I don't think you've heard it yet."

Sara gives me an odd look but nods like she doesn't know how to do anything else. I bet that if she opened her mouth she'd tell me to keep the story to myself.

"You know about the accident. I won't talk about that, but you don't know about the hospital." I pull my hand from hers. I don't feel like human contact right now. "When Dad got to the hospital he died almost immediately, but they were able to stabilize Mom. It took them about a day to figure out that she was brain dead. They told me I had to make a decision about whether I wanted to keep her on life support. They gave me all this stuff to read that was supposed to help me with my decision. They had all these statistics on the probability that Mom would wake up and be a person. I read the information and then I signed the papers for them to take her off life support."

I hear Catherine gasp, but keep my eyes focused on Sara. She looks like I've just punched her in the stomach. "I had to make the decision to kill who I thought was my Mom, because you couldn't handle being around me. I get shipped off to this new place and I see that you have a pretty good life. I don't think we had any kind of fair tradeoff."

Tears start to fall from Sara's eyes. I can't stand looking at them so I look to the floor. "I'm really sorry that things turned out like they did," she says. "I'm sorry."

There are a couple of things I thought that I'd never do in this life. One of them was accepting an apology from Sara, but life changes rapidly and what I expect seems to change with it. I've been angry at Sara for a really long time. I think I may actually have good reason to be angry too, but I think that anger just might be killing me a little bit.

"I accept your apology." I try something really new to me. I open up my arms and wrap them around Sara. It's not a very comfortable hug, but it's a start. It's the very best I think either of us can do at the moment.

I don't know how long Catherine and Sara stay in my room. It's longer than any of us thought it would actually be. Somehow, we've all started crying and it has started to feel way too much like a deep heart-to-heart for me. I'm not used to exposing myself this much in one sitting.

"So what are we going to do next?" I venture to ask.

"Well we're definitely going to start getting you help. We can't have you getting in the way of cars intentionally." Catherine says as she wipes the tears from her eyes.

"So you know about that?" I ask Catherine but am looking at Sara.

"Of course I know." Catherine brushes some of my hair out of my face. "I know everything."

Her comment really isn't that funny, but I laugh anyway. I kind of feel the need to laugh.

"We'll go somewhere together," Sara adds.

Family therapy? I guess that could work.

"And we'll take things one day at a time." Catherine places her hand on my thigh.

"Sounds like you both have a game plan," I look suspiciously at both of them. "I'm guessing you've talked about this before."

"We have." They both reply.

Team work, I do understand how important that is.

"So what should I call you now?" I ask Sara tentatively.

"What do you want to call me?"

"I'm not sure," I may need some time to think about this. "You're not really my sister and I don't think either one of us is ready for the big M' word. Why don't I just call you Legal Guardian Sara?"

Sara smiles, "I think that will work."

I don't know if I'll ever be able to call her Mom. Right now it certainly doesn't feel right. We've got a lot still to talk about and even more to work out, but maybe this family thing won't turn out to be so bad. If it is, I can still hold onto the fact that I've only got two more years left before I can legally run away.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimers in Chapter One**

Chapter Ten

"Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen," I say under my breath. "Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen." The basketball I'm throwing in the air veers off its path causing me to reach out and catch it. I'm lying on this bench in the middle of this park throwing a basketball in the air seeing how many times I can keep it spinning in the air with just a small slap of my hand. It's not the most exciting thing I've ever done, but it's a mindless enough task.

If I tried doing something that required actual thought, I'd probably knock myself out. Tomorrow night two college recruits are supposed to come to my final home game. One's from the University of Tennessee and the other is from Stanford University. They said they were hearing a lot of good things about me and were willing to make a verbal commitment. Neither of them has said anything about scholarships yet, but they're going to have to.

Sara did offer to help me with college, but I don't know how I feel about taking that much money from her. I still don't know how much I can rely on her. Sure, we've kind of been getting along and all, but we're not exactly best friends or anything. The only time we talk is in therapy, and I'm not too sure how much that's really helping us. I don't expect any miracles, but I do expect something from it. I don't know what 'it' is exactly, but I'm expecting it.

I take a deep breath and throw the ball back up in the air. A pair of hands reaches out and catches the ball before gravity has a chance to work and it starts dropping back to me. "You look like you're thinking way too hard."

It's Catherine. I'm surprised she even knows I'm over here. Sara and she were supposed to be cooking up the two tofu burgers and two beef burgers for our lunch. The only reason I even agreed to come to this 'family picnic' was because I was promised food.

"So what are you thinking about?" Catherine leans over the bench and hands me back the basketball. I take it from her and sit up on the bench cuddling the ball to my chest. I have a couple of options here, I can blow Catherine off and not tell her anything or I can try this communication thing that the psychologist of mine says I need to work on.

"It's hard not to be thinking. I've got my biggest goal within reach and I don't want to screw it up."

"You're talking about the recruits coming," Catherine makes her way around the bench and sits down next to me.

"Yeah," I sigh. "This is my chance."

"Mel, you've got nothing to worry about. Those recruits are practically drooling all over themselves when they look at you. Sara's having to beat them off with a bat, and you're only a sophomore. You've got another two years left after this one."

Well, I guess that's one way to look at if it were true. "I just have two years left. I'll graduate next year."

I'm not sure how Catherine didn't figure it out before. I've actually got enough credits to graduate this year, but I don't want to enter college at the age of sixteen. That sounds like a bad idea to me and I don't even know if I'd be allowed to play on the college team then.

"You're graduating early?" Catherine seems sort of surprised by this news. "Does Sara know?"

I stand up from the bench and look away from Catherine. "I don't think so."

"Melinda you have to start talking to her," Catherine chastises me, something she tends to do more than I like. I wonder if she does it to Sara too. "She wants to share in your successes."

"Yeah," I bounce the ball a few times. "Sara still looks at me weird sometimes. We're still not comfortable with each other." I wipe my forehead with the back of my arm. "She still sees him in me."

"Did she tell you this?" Catherine asks gently. If she's good with one thing she's good at asking questions.

"Yeah, she told me so in therapy," I drop the ball to the ground and make no attempt to pick it up. "It's hard for her. I get that." I actually do get that. I've tried to imagine a thousand and plus times what I would have done if I had been in Sara's position, and I think I've come up with a thousand plus different answers.

I heard this guy talking once, he was a baby that was put up for adoption, kind of like me I guess, and he said that he imagined what it must have been like for mothers back in the day when abortion wasn't legal and he's glad it's an option now. He says abortion is a good thing as long as the fetus wasn't him. That's something I really understand now.

"Food's up!" Sara calls from the picnic table they had managed to get for the day.

I pick up the ball and run to the table. My conversation with Catherine is pretty much over in my mind.

When I reach the table, Lindsey and Sara are waiting. I take a seat next to Lindsey and immediately reach out for the food but my hand is captured before I make contact. "Wash your hands," Sara tells me.

I pull my hand back and take a good look at it. It's covered in dirt from bouncing the ball around on the pavement. "My hands are fine."

Sara shakes her head and mentions a type of bacteria that can most likely be found on my hand at the moment. I think the mere suggestion of it is absurd. She should know that the temperature isn't right for those particular bacteria to thrive at the moment, and I make sure to tell her this. Sara mentions another bacteria which I also immediately find fault with.

I'm mostly concentrating on the debate I'm having with Sara, but I hear Lindsey ask Catherine what Sara and I are talking about. Catherine just tells the kid to eat her lunch, which is something I'd really like to be doing at the moment instead of debating the finer points of bacteria strands.

Since I am so hungry, I get up and wash my hands with this anti-bacteria stuff Catherine brought with us. I concede the argument only because I feel like my body is going to start eating itself any moment now. If food wasn't involved in this, I would have kept the conversation up with Sara until she said she was wrong.

When we finish eating, I take Lindsey out to the park's basketball court insisting that it's time the girl learns how to play. She can't possibly expect to hang around me and not know how to play the sport. Lindsey talks Sara into joining us so now the three of us are standing on the court and I'm doing my best to coach them. Unfortunately, these two don't have much potential.

"Throwing the ball from between your legs isn't the best way to shoot," I calmly explain to Lindsey who is looking up at me with a fixed expression of boredom on her face. "It lowers your accuracy and it makes it a lot easier on your defender."

Lindsey is shifting from one foot to the other, being kind enough to at least half listen to me. "But the ball goes in more when I do that."

I drop my chin to my chest and release a long sigh. This is beginning to seem a little pointless. "Are there any sports you like playing?"

"I like soccer," Lindsey says happily. I think she sees an opportunity for getting out of playing basketball.

"Soccer huh?" I lift my head. It's not one of my favorites but, "I can do soccer." I drop the basketball to the ground and start kicking it around like it's a soccer ball. I'd say my handling technique is excellent.

I kick the ball so that I'm no longer on the pavement. Soccer is meant to be played on grass. Lindsey follows and starts kicking at the ball trying to steal it from me. She misses a few times and kicks me real hard in the shin reminding me why I decided to not play on a soccer team in the first place.

I let it take a few tries, but eventually let Lindsey steal the ball from me. She's running around happy she's got one up on me and I'm letting her have her moment. My attention turns to Catherine and Sara who are talking quite intimately.

Sometimes I wish I could be a little bug flying in the air hovering around them when they have these conversations, because they always seem to be talking about me. I'm probably the only thing they talk about these days. I don't know what either of them says and maybe I don't want to know. It can't be all good if their conversations always happen without me next to them.

Oh well. I guess I could always ask them what they were talking about later, or I could decide that they deserve their privacy and keep my mind focused on something else. I can stop letting it matter to me what Sara is thinking about me or saying about me. I can decide that it doesn't really matter and that I don't really care.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"So this is it," Jenny whispers in my ear. "This is your chance to shine."

"Shut up," I gently push her away from me. "You're going to make me more nervous than I already am and I'm going to forget how to play."

"You're nervous?" Rebecca asks from behind Jenny. "I don't understand why. You've got this thing."

"Yeah," Kendra adds. "Next week we go to the state championships. Everyone here knows that's mostly because of you."

"You've made us a better team," Jenny says with a smile. "So if you could take us on, you can definitely woo a couple of college recruits."

"Just don't trip when you lead us out to the court," La Tasha calls from the back.

The announcer comes on and the lights in the gym flicker off. He begins introducing the visiting team and my interest in what he says quickly fades. I take a look out at the bleachers from the hallway we're waiting in. It looks like we have a full house tonight. I guess word finally got out that the Las Vegas High School Lady Wildcats is a much better team than the boys' basketball team.

The lights start flashing overhead and I guess that means it's our turn to be introduced. Some music starts up and the home crowd starts cheering. I take another look at the bleachers kind of expecting someone from my family to be up there, but I know no one is. Catherine and Sara had to work tonight and I talked Nancy and Lindsey out of coming. They're not really my family anyway.

"Start running," Jenny pushes me out into the view of the crowd. "They're calling our names. That's your signal to lead us to the court."

I stumble out onto the court, but manage not to fall down. I've really got to get my focus back. This is an important game for me, because those recruits are here and I can't risk looking like a complete idiot. It'd be good if I start out by looking a little competent.

We're introduced and the game starts with us quickly taking the lead. The other team seems good, but they're not good enough to beat us. We're the best team in the region; I'm hoping that we're the best team in the state. We may even be able to make it to nationals and that would be really cool.

The visiting team is starting to look frustrated. That means that the game is almost over. I've noticed that if you break another team's spirits then you've got them beat.

Jenny passes me the ball and I go up for a quick jump shot. I feel my defender push me in mid-air and it takes my attention away from my shot. Everything goes into slow motion and I realize that the push I just got has thrown me off balance.

When I land it's with my full weight going onto the side of my left foot. My leg buckles and I fall to the wooden floor. All the noises of the crowd quickly fade away from me and I think I can only hear the sound of my own screaming.

I roll up into a sitting position and take a look at my foot. It's not twisted in any weird angle or something, but it hurts. It hurts a lot. I drop back down to the floor and cover my eyes with my forearm. I don't think I've ever been in so much pain in my life, and I've been injured plenty of times before.

A little voice inside my head is yelling at me to get up, but I shut it up real quickly. There's no way I'm going to be able to put any weight on my foot. It just hurts way too much.

I feel a couple of hands grabbing at me and hear the voice of our trainer, Bethany, asking me if I'm okay. I laugh at the question. I'm seriously not okay. I hear Coach giving orders out to my fellow teammates telling them to give me some breathing room.

"Do you think you can stand up?" Bethany asks me.

I uncover my eyes and look directly at her. "No."

"Okay," she nods her head and puts her arm around my waist. She does her best to lift me from the floor, but she's only five and a half feet tall. I'm a little too heavy for her.

Within moments there's another body by my side helping me off the floor. I look at the person supporting most of my weight and almost fall down again when I realize it's Sara. She's not supposed to be here right now.

Sara's eyes meet mine. "You're going to be okay," she says.

There are a thousand things I could say right at this moment. There's also a lot I've got to think about here, because I don't know what to think about Sara being here. I wonder if Catherine is hanging out somewhere too. "I thought you were working."

"It was your last home game."

Something big is happening here, I think, and it probably doesn't have much to do with my left foot. My left arm slips from Bethany's shoulder and I fall off balance and am forced to put down my left foot to gain it again.

This time I think I could actually pass out from the pain. I hear Sara call out my name and Bethany apologizing. I quickly realize that it would be much better if I just passed out, it would probably hurt less. So I stop fighting to stay awake and let the pain carry me off into another dimension where pain isn't in my vocabulary.

* * *

I wake up in a hospital room and don't feel a lot of pain. As soon as I open my eyes I see Catherine and Sara standing above me. They're just standing there looking at me. It's kind of weird.

It takes a few seconds for my eyes to focus and I don't think my head is going to clear up anytime soon. They must have given me something for the pain. I wonder if they know all my drug allergies, even though I don't have any drug allergies.

"Wha..." I try to speak but my voice isn't working. I'm honestly not even sure if I'm actually awake. This could all be just one big dream. I could be dreaming about a hospital bed with me in it. There are a lot of possibilities here.

"She's waking up," I hear Catherine say. This could still be a dream, though. This whole deal about me getting hurt in the final home game could be a storyline made up by some person who decided to dictate my life and dreams.

When all this ends, I'm sure I'll find that I'm just having an anxiety dream about playing in the game I still haven't played. I'm just nervous about the recruits being there and this is the way my mind has chosen to deal with it.

Sara moves so that she's directly within my line of sight. "Hey."

I think she's talking to me and since this is a dream I can say whatever it is I want to say to her. "What?" That's the best I can say at the moment. My voice isn't working and I don't think my brain is in full control right now.

Catherine reaches out and puts her hand on my shoulder. "You're in the hospital. You passed out and you were brought here in an ambulance. You did wake up for a little while before they gave you the pain medication."

I don't remember waking up. I'm not even sure I'm awake now. "The game?"

"Your team won. Your coach and your entire team are waiting out in the waiting room for you."

Well, I guess this could be actually happening. Granted, I can't really feel my foot at the moment but the entire thing could have happened, and if my foot is as bad as I thought it was before I passed out then that means my season is over.

That's a very depressing thought. Another thought that comes to mind is, 'what is Catherine doing here?' How long was I knocked out for exactly?

"We're still waiting for your results," Sara says softly.

"Results?"

"About your foot," Sara's hand is gripping the side of my hospital bed rather tightly. Her knuckles have gone white. Is she angry about something?

"It broken?" It certainly felt broken before.

"We're not sure." Catherine's hand squeezes my shoulder.

"If it's broken then I can't play in the finals." I have a feeling that even if it isn't broken I won't be playing in the state championships anyway. I'm smart enough to realize when I'm hurt too much to continue.

"Let's just see what happens," Catherine says. I think she's trying to be helpful, but she's not being so successful at the moment. I can see the answer to everything in her blue eyes.

It doesn't take long for the doctor to come into the room and she stands on the other side of me. She gives me a weak smile and I see bad news in my future.

"Your foot isn't broken," she says, "but it looks like you've partially torn a tendon in your foot called the Inferior Extensor Retinaculum. You might have even done some damage to the muscle that is behind that tendon." The doctor moves to the end of the bed and lifts the sheet that's covering me and puts her finger gently on my foot. "The tendon is y-shaped and it runs across your foot. It helps to keep some of your other tendons in place."

"And that means," I ask. This sounds like it could be serious.

"Well it means that it probably would have been easier on you, Melinda, if you had broken your foot. You're going to have to get a MRI and see if you need surgery."

"Surgery?" I don't know how we manage it, but Catherine, Sara and I ask all at the same time.

"It's a remote possibility, but still a possibility. Most likely you'll just end up having to stay off your foot for a month and go through some physical therapy."

"That means no state championship." I certainly have had my streak of bad luck this year.

"I'm sorry." The doctor actually looks sorry too. "You're probably not going to be able to play in a basketball game for a while."

Yep. I've certainly had some bad luck this year. "I didn't even finish the last game of the season. I couldn't even do that. My mother even came and I couldn't manage to finish." Whoa, did I just say mother? I'm going to have to remember that I'm on pain medication and think a lot harder about what I say. My brain is choosing some real whacked out words right now. My mother, the mother I knew, is dead.

"Melinda, I think your mother is a lot more concerned with your health than whether or not you finished your basketball game." The doctor looks quickly over at Sara and Catherine but her eyes settle on mine. "Your mother seems really proud of you. I don't think you getting hurt will make her think any less of you."

"I am proud of you," Sara says brokenly. She opens her mouth and I think she wants to say more, but she doesn't.

"We're both really proud of you." Catherine gives me a gentle smile and I swear these pain meds are doing some weird things to me because I start crying. I don't cry. I certainly don't cry over some words two people I hardly even know say.

"I'll leave you all alone and go order the MRI." The doctor leaves the room and I'm left in here with Catherine and Sara and I'm crying, no matter how much I want to stop.

Sara lowers the bed rail that she's been holding onto for dear life and sits down on the bed next to me. Hesitantly she reaches out and actually gathers me in her arms. "I know how much this meant to you Mel, and I'm really sorry."

Her words and actions just make me cry all the harder. I reach up and grab onto one of the arms she's got around me. I'm not quite sure if I'm trying to push her away from me or pull her closer.


	12. Chapter 12

**This chapter is the beginning of this story earning its M rating. You've been warned.**

**Chapter 12**

It took all night for us to get out of the hospital, but at least I don't have to get surgery. The muscle is fine; it's just the tendon that got screwed up. If I could get my hands on that girl who pushed me, well I probably wouldn't do anything to her but I would think about it. Injuries happen to be a part of the game and pushing people around happens to be a part of it too.

I guess that's one of the risks that we athletes take. It's a risk that I took and now I can't play in the state championships. I'm stuck on crutches for the next four weeks and have to go through some physical therapy.

It could always be worse. Then again, it could always be better.

"You're starting to depress me," A pillow hits me in the back of the head.

"I'm not even talking." I pick the pillow up and turn around so that I'm facing Jenny. We're both sitting on my bed with our books open doing our best to be good students and study.

"You look depressed." Jenny closes her book and puts it down on the floor. "You're pouting. You're always pouting. You even pout in your sleep."

"How would you know?"

Jenny gives me a level look that I'm unable to hold. I turn away and release a heavy sigh. I have been pouting a lot lately, but I can't help it. My foot is killing me and I can't play in the state championships. That's reason enough for me to pout. Add onto all that, everything else that is happening and I think I deserve to pout at least a little bit.

"Mel," Jenny moves so that she is next to me on the bed. "What happened to you really sucks. The team's unhappy about it, Coach is unhappy about it, I'm unhappy about it, you're unhappy about it, we're all just really unhappy about it. But it did happen and now we just have to move on. You still got offered some mega money from both Stanford and Tennessee. You've got your ride into college. There's always next season."

"But I want to play in this season." I know that I'm being whiny but at this point I don't really care.

"Mel, you did play in this season. You played a whole lot in this season and, no matter what, you're going with us to the state championships even if you can't play."

So I get a free ride to the capitol of Nevada. I don't even know what the capitol of Nevada is.

"And Mel, I know this might sound completely unfair but the team needs you to be strong. Everyone is devastated that you can't play. We need you sitting there with us at the championships believing that we can win instead of moping because you can't play."

"Is this a version of your 'suck it up for the team' pep talk?"

Jenny bites her lower lip. "Have you gotten the talk already?"

I grin. "No. Although, I've gotten a lot of the 'I know how much this meant to you and let's just take this a day at a time' speeches."

"Well it sounds like your..."

"Just say Sara," Jenny is one of the only people I've told about my situation with Sara. It's not something I find very easy to talk about. I don't quite understand my situation anyway, so there's no way I could stand up in the middle of a room and tell my sordid tale. There would be one too many gaps.

"Well it sounds like Sara is being really supportive."

I shrug. "I guess, but it's really awkward."

Jenny tilts her head to the side a little. "Why?"

"I think it's because she doesn't know how to be supportive and I don't know how to accept her support."

"Why can't you accept her support?"

If I knew that then I probably wouldn't be having this problem. "It's weird."

"You know what I think?" Jenny puts her hand on her chest. "I think that you don't trust her."

"And I think I've got way too many people already trying to psycho- analyze me." I turn away from her and to the book I'm supposed to be studying, but I guess Jenny doesn't want this conversation to be over because she reaches across me and grabs my book.

"If you want to gain an inch in your relationship with your..." She gets hung up on a specific title again and I take this as my opportunity to stop whatever lecture it is she's about to give me.

"Jenny, until you have lived my life please don't judge it."

"I'm not judging you," she says softly. "That's last thing I'm doing is judging you, but I do care about you."

I cross my arms in front of me. "And that means?"

"It means that you're only hurting yourself with your attitude."

"I don't have to listen to this." I swing my legs over the bed and cringe when blood rushes to my injured foot. I've got to remember to take things slowly.

Jenny puts her hand on my arm, effectively stopping me from getting up and hobbling over to my crutches so that I can hop out of the room. "Mel, please don't be so stubborn."

Stubborn? I'm not being stubborn. I'm being the person who doesn't want to talk about their innermost feelings every ten seconds. I'm being the person who is tired of the guarded looks people give me because they're not quite sure if I'm going to spontaneously combust or something.

"Mel, you've got to stop running away every time someone brings up something you don't want to talk about. Have you ever thought that maybe Sara has such a hard time talking to you because you always run away when she tries to?"

I try not to think as much as possible. I find that ultimately it's what's best. Every time I start thinking about things I either get really depressed or really angry. "Leave it alone, Jenny." I sound defeated, but that's probably because I am.

As carefully as I can manage, I pull myself from Jenny's grip. She's strong and tries to hold onto me, but I break free although it's with entirely too much force. I jump up into the air and try to gain my balance by pivoting on my right foot. I know that if I put my left foot down then I'll be in incredible pain.

Ultimately, I can't keep my balance and decide it's best for me to fall. I land on my back, so my injured foot didn't have to bear any weight. Jenny's face appears above me and I can tell she's moments away from bursting with laughter. "If you laugh at me, I'm going to beat you with my crutch."

"It may be a good thing you got hurt." Jenny jumps off the bed and moves so that she's straddling my torso. "You can't run away anymore. Everyone who wants to talk to you can just sit on top of you and make you listen and talk to them."

I make a rather lame attempt to get Jenny off of me, but fail miserably. I can't over power her since I can't brace both my feet on the ground, and there's no way I'm risking further injury to my foot. It hurts bad enough as it is.

"So, Jenny, did you want to talk about something?" I give her my fakest smile. This really does not amuse me.

Before she can answer, my bedroom door opens. I can't see who it is but I certainly recognize the voice. "Am I interrupting something?" Catherine sounds amused. I'm glad I can amuse everyone so much now.

"Get her off me." I say each word very carefully so that Catherine understands that this is not good times.

I hear Catherine's shoes making their way towards me until they stop right next to my head. Catherine bends down and puts herself right into my limited view. "Why is she on top of you?"

"To make her talk and listen and not run away," Jenny announces proudly. "I just discovered the best way to get Melinda's attention."

"Is it working?" Catherine needs to be less interested in this subject and more interested in getting Jenny off of me.

Jenny shrugs. "I'm not sure yet. I haven't asked her to talk about anything."

"Then don't let me interfere." Catherine sits down next to my head and it doesn't seem like she's taking my side here.

"This isn't funny," I try to push Jenny away with my arms and do little to move her. She's got her legs planted at my sides and her hands are pushing down my shoulders. I give up my shoving and drop my head down to the floor. "Can we at least make a deal?"

Jenny raises a brow. "What kind of a deal?"

"I'll answer two questions then you let me up so that I can throw you out of this apartment and tell you to never return."

Jenny pretends like she's thinking about my offer, but I know she'll accept. It may seem like she's having fun, but I know that she won't torture me with this. There's no way she could be that mean.

"Fine." Jenny releases my shoulders and sits up. "I ask you a question and Catherine asks you the other. I get to go first."

"Do it." There's no way she's going to be able to ask a question that I won't be able to wrangle out of answering.

Jenny rubs her chin and it seems like she's in deep thought. She's not going to come up with anything good, I bet. Her face turns very serious all the sudden and she looks directly at me. Her eyes are holding mine, and suddenly my confidence has completely disappeared. "When you look in the mirror, what is it that you see?"

"Get off me." I don't know what's happening to me, but I'm starting to feel a little dizzy. My heart's pounding and I could swear I'm getting short of breath. I know that I'm way too young and too healthy to be having a heart attack.

Jenny shakes her head. "Not before you answer the question."

"I'll answer the question," my voice is actually shaking. "Just get off of me."

Jenny looks over to Catherine. Catherine looks at me and tells Jenny to get off me. As soon as I'm free from Jenny I sit up and back away from them both. My back hits the desk in the room. I concentrate on my breathing, hoping that it will calm down and I won't pass out.

The room is spinning and I'm doing my best to focus. Catherine and Jenny are across from me and look kind of concerned. I see Catherine speaking to me, but I don't hear what she's saying.

I actually think I could be dying here.

Okay, I just need to focus. I need to get myself back together so that I can answer Jenny's question and yell at her for being such a bitch. Her idea was obviously a very bad one.

Catherine reaches out for me and I slap her arm away from me. I can't be touched right now. I can't handle that right now.

I'm stronger than this. I know that I'm stronger than this. I've lived through a lot worse than someone asking me a direct question. This is something that can't beat me. Nothing can beat me. My parents can't even beat me anymore.

That's it. I just have to calm down. I have to control myself.

I take a very shaky deep breath and slowly release it. I take a few swallows and focus on the two people in front of me. "I'm sorry." Why am I apologizing? I didn't do anything wrong.

"Don't apologize." Catherine reaches out for me again but I still shy away from her touch.

"I'm sorry." I have nothing to be sorry for. "I don't know what happened." I finally went crazy and completely lost it. I'm becoming more and more like the mother who raised me.

"Sweetie, I think you just had a panic attack." I can see in Catherine's eyes that she wants to reach out to me again. I'm glad she doesn't act on the urge. I wouldn't let her touch me.

"Yeah well whatever it was it sucked." I think the temperature in the room has just dropped about fifteen degrees. I'm getting really cold, and if I could just get my head together for longer than a few seconds then I could figure everything out. "I think I need to leave."

I feel like I'm suffocating in here. "Melinda, that's probably not a good idea."

What does Catherine know? There's no possible way that she could know. "No. I need to leave." I grab hold of the desk and use it to help me stand up. I get to my crutches and make my way to the door. Catherine steps into my path while Jenny looks nervously on.

"Melinda, I can't let you go anywhere alone right now."

I can't look at Catherine right now. Looking at her is making me angry. Being around other people right now is making me angry. "Please let me go." I plead. "Please."

I can feel Catherine's eyes roaming over my body. I can feel them judging me and measuring me up to see if I'm worthy. I can feel them rake over me gauging exactly how screwed up I actually am.

"I'm sorry," Catherine takes a step closer to me, "I can't."

My body starts to shake again, but it's not from another panic attack. My hands are gripping at my crutches with all my strength. If I keep it up I might even be able to bend the metal.

"I don't want to hurt you." When I was a young girl, the woman who raised me would punish me by placing me in a corner, but it wasn't like normal time-outs. She'd make me go to a corner and she'd slap at me with a belt. One time, I forgot to be scared of her and I got angry. I grabbed hold of that belt and pulled it right out of her hands and hit her back. I cut open her cheek.

The cut bled and I was happy that I caused her pain. I was happy that it was finally her turn to bleed.

She ended up breaking my arm that day, we told the doctors at the hospital I slipped on the wet floors of the house. I was clumsy. I was stupid.

Catherine looked at my hands. The grip I had on those crutches had turned my knuckles white. I think Catherine has just realized how serious I really am. She looks afraid of me.

After I attacked her, the woman who raised me was afraid too. I was fifteen when she stopped hitting me. Sure, I had to deal with a broken arm but I certainly did win that little war in the end. I finally showed that woman that she couldn't physically hurt me anymore. She'd just have to settle with slowly killing my soul.

"Melinda you don't have to hurt anyone." Catherine's a brave woman because she takes another step towards me.

When I look in the mirror what is it that I see? That's what Jenny wanted to know, right? She wants a little piece of the puzzle of me so that she can better figure me out. If she had gone to my old high school she would have seen me differently there. People always wanted to fight me. They wanted to find my imperfections and thought they could do so with their fists.

I didn't mind the jealousy. I didn't mind that they thought I had a superior attitude, it just meant that they wanted to hurt me all the more. I could shut up anyone who said anything about me real quick with a single punch.

"What's going on?" So, my mother has decided to join the party. I guess crime in Vegas has gone way down, because it doesn't seem like these two have to work at all anymore.

"I'm leaving." I'm not speaking to anyone directly.

I push past Catherine, then Jenny, then Sara. I make my way quickly out of the apartment. I'm able to make it out of the building without anyone running after me. Maybe Catherine finally caught on to what I was saying.

Plus, it's not like I can go that far from the building. I've got a bum foot and I'm on crutches. It doesn't look like running to the nearest wherever is really an option at the moment, and it's not like I have anywhere to go.

There are a couple of benches over near the pool at the center of the complex. That's where I make my way to. I sit down and look over at the tarp covered pool. It's winter so the pool's not exactly in use. There are leaves and other gunk on the tarp. It doesn't look that pretty.

When the cold fades, though, they'll come out here and remove the tarp. They'll clean up the pool and the water will be a perfect blue. Everything that made its home in it for the winter will die away. The tarp will be put away and this part of the complex will probably be booming with life.

For now, I'm the only one here, and when the summer comes I probably won't be here to see it. Sara and I still plan on moving, but we've got to do it when I can lift more than nothing. I think Catherine wants us to move in with her, but I don't think I'm ready for that.

Anyway, after today Catherine probably doesn't want me around Lindsey. Kids can get on people's nerves and if she gets me too angry then who knows what I'll do. I don't know if I could ever hit a child, but I never thought that I'd go after the woman who raised me either.

She did try to hit me again, right after everything happened. She thought that since she broke my arm she taught me my lesson. It was when I came home late one day from practice. A friend dropped me off and when she saw that it was a guy, she went completely insane. She started ranting and raving about not hanging out with guys because they're evil. She started saying all these weird things about having sex and not taking care of another kid.

Her raving makes complete sense now, but at the time I couldn't keep up. In the middle of the rant, she stopped talking and looked at me. I think me standing there just made her angry, because the next thing I know she's coming after me with a knife.

I was bigger than her, I was stronger than her and I wasn't going to let her hurt me. So I took her weapon of choice away from her. I ripped it right out of her hands and put it to her throat. I told her if she ever thought of raising a hand to me again then I'd kill her.

My threat frightened her, and this time she didn't try and break my arm. She didn't try and do anything. She stood there in front of me looking weak and pathetic. She stood there looking afraid.

"I thought you might come here," I thought it would be Catherine coming after me, not Sara.

"If I had the means, I'd be half way to Tennessee by now." I scoot down the bench giving Sara room to sit down.

Sara takes the seat. "Is that where you want to go?"

"I want to go away from the memories." We may not know each other very well, but I know she understands what I'm talking about.

"No place is far enough away for you to accomplish that."

She would know. "Did she tell you I was going to hit her?"

"She said something like that." I'm not looking at her, but I can tell by the tone of her voice that she doesn't much like the fact I threatened her girlfriend.

"I would have hit her if she didn't let me go." I'm being honest. I would have hit her. I wouldn't have thought twice about it.

"I know."

"So you gonna throw me out now?" I threatened someone she cares for. That's bound to have some major consequences.

"No. Never."

I decide to be a little brave and chance looking up at Sara. She doesn't look angry to me, but doesn't look happy either. "So what are you going to do?"

Sara sighs. "I don't know. Tell me why you were so angry?"

Everyone wants to ask me questions today. "Jenny asked me what I see when I look in the mirror and I freaked out."

"Why did you freak out?" Sara's being a lot calmer than I thought she would be. I expected fireworks. I always get fireworks.

"Because when I look in the mirror I see the scars. I see all the scars. And when I look at my eyes I see her laughing at me."

"Jesus Mel," Sara releases another heavy sigh. "What did she do to you?"

I don't think Sara really wants to know. I don't even want to know. It'd be great if I could forget everything.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you for all the reviews. I am paying attention to them all and appreciate it.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

When we get back into the apartment, Catherine and Jenny are gone. I guess it's one of the times where it's best for Sara and me to be alone. Everyone wants to give us space to talk, but the big joke is on them. Sara and I are less likely to talk unless someone else is pushing us to have a conversation. I'm not sure either of us is capable of starting up a conversation on our own.

"So, it seems like you get really angry." Maybe I was wrong. It seems like Sara is ready to talk.

"And I don't even know who I'm angry at."

"What do you mean?"

"She beat me and I hate her for that. I didn't defend myself until almost the very end; I hate myself for that. You left me there and I kinda hate you for that. I hate that I can't forget and I hate that it even happened." We've been standing this entire time, and I don't think I can stand anymore. This is a little too heavy for me. I slowly make my way to the couch and take a seat. "I don't know who I should be yelling at. I don't know if it's God, if it's you, if it's her, if it's fate or if it's me."

"You don't have to hate or yell at anyone."

So I just told Sara that I hate her and all she has to say is that I don't have to hate or yell at anyone? That's what she has to say? That's a load of crap. "Are you saying that you're not angry about anything?" Because if she is saying that than she's lying.

She looks at me and I can tell that she hasn't let go of her anger. It's written clear across her face. She's just as angry as I am. Sara lived through the same abuse I did; I know she did. There's no way she could be in the same house as Laura Sidle and not been given a few love taps. Since Laura was younger with Sara, Sara probably got it worse than I did. By the time I came along Laura seemed pretty worn out.

"I am angry," Sara says slowly, "but I'm not threatening to hit anyone."

"She chased me around with a knife once." Sara's body stiffens and she looks away from me. "If I had made an easier target she probably would have stabbed me. I was able to take the knife from her, and I told her I'd kill her if she came after me again. I meant it."

"Did she ever..."

"No." I shake my head. "She was afraid of me, and that's when I became like her."

"Mel, you're nothing like her." Sara is still standing and not too close to me either. She's sure to keep her distance.

"I'm everything like her, and so are you." I hate it when they always show how people overcome their torrent pasts on those stupid after-school specials. They always say that the person is different than their parent or abuser or whatever, but that's a lie. Stuff like that isn't as easy as 'you're nothing like them'.

We are all exactly like them, because we are what they make us to be. Even if we don't act the same, we are the same. Usually we get the lowered self-esteem, anger, inability to cope with stressful situations, have problems interacting with people-- I read the pamphlets they hand out-- and then they say we're nothing like our abusers.

They say a big fat lie so that people like me can feel better about themselves. They forget to mention that our abusers had all the same traits and just handed them to us through a painful rite of passage. The only thing that can separate us from them is whether or not we choose to 'continue the cycle' as they say, but all the marks are still there. In that way, we will never be different than our oppressors because more than likely they have the exact same marks.

"I'm nothing like her."

Sara certainly does look angry now. I guess I just have to hit the right spot to get her anger to show, and from what I see her anger isn't that far from the surface. "If you think about it hard enough, you'll realize I'm right."

She's standing above me, staring down into my eyes and she's angry. She looks like her mother, she looks like me. "The best we can do, Sara, is make sure that our children don't have the same marks we do. We have to let them become nothing like us."

"You are my child."

I shrug. "Then maybe you can try to get it right on your second try." I don't think there's a lot of time left for Sara to make that much of a difference with me. I don't want to be Laura Sidle, and I really don't want Sara to be either, but I don't know how to change things now.

Sara plops down n the couch next to me. "You said you hate me."

So she did hear that. "I said that I kinda hate you, and I do." She looks like I just punched her in the stomach. I honestly wonder why. This can't be news to her. I've never told her I love her. I haven't told her I like her. I haven't shared with her that being around her confuses me, because she makes me angry just by being but at the same time I want her acceptance, and I want her to tell me I belong. "But hate is a transient thing, right?"

"We can hope it is for us."

Now hope is one of those words that I have close to no belief in. I hoped too often when I was younger for better days and only got worse ones. Then again, I hoped that the people who raised me would die and that did happen, but I'm not sure if that's a good thing.

"If it isn't then we've only got two more years with each other left." I haven't forgotten that. It stays at the forefront of my mind, and right now it's the only think that I have to hold onto.

"Melinda," Sara puts her hand on my thigh. "I want you to be a part of my life for a lot longer than just two years."

"Oh." Well I don't think I was ready to hear that.

"Melinda, I want us all to be family."

"Oh." I should really find a more detailed response to this, but I don't have one. Every adult I've known has given me flowery words, but not many ever pulled through for me. I've learned over time that I can only count on myself, trust in myself, and listen to myself.

"So?"

"So what?" Does Sara actually want a more detailed response?

"What do you think about us trying to be a family?" Sara's hand still hasn't left my thigh and I think I'm feeling another panic attack coming. Maybe I do have problems with being asked direct questions.

I take a couple of breaths to calm myself. "Who's all part of us?" Of course I know what she means, but asking a question is better than answering one any day.

"You, me, Catherine, and Lindsey."

"Shouldn't we try starting off smaller?" Sara and I couldn't even be called family now. If we add Catherine and Lindsey to the mix I could only predict disaster. Didn't I just tell Sara not that long ago that I threatened to hit Catherine?

"Mel, I think we need all the support we can get."

For some reason, I don't think living with Catherine is going to be best for me. That just means Catherine will be around a lot more and so will Lindsey. "How long have you and Catherine been together?"

I can see that the question throws Sara off. I've never asked about their relationship before. I never really thought to ask, but right now it seems kind of important. It seems like it's time for me to know exactly how much their plans for life have been thrown off since I've arrived. What if Sara had already been living with Catherine and only kept the apartment because her lease hadn't been up yet? What if she didn't stay here that often except when they fought?

"A little over a year."

"Did you have plans to move in with her before I came?"

"Yes." At least she's being honest.

"So your lives got put on hold because of me?"

"No. It changed; it didn't stop."

This is one of those times when I think I'm going to have to try and be mature. I don't think Sara would force me to move in with Catherine and the kid. I don't think she'd do that at all. So I have to decide if I hate Sara enough to want to put off her happiness with Catherine.

"Can I take some time and think about this?" I wonder how patient Sara is.

"We'll talk when you're ready."

I nod. "So you really love them?"

"Yes." There is no hesitation in her answer. I think I almost wanted there to be one.

"Lindsey's like a daughter to you?" There's no point in me asking about this. It doesn't matter.

"Yes." Sara doesn't elaborate and maybe that's a good thing.

I get up from the couch and put my crutches in place. This conversation thing has been going on a little too long for me. "It's time for me to take the pain meds." They'll put me right to sleep and I won't have to think about any of this.

Sara stands from the couch as well and gets within my personal space. "Lindsey being like a daughter to me doesn't mean… it doesn't mean that… I… don't think…"

"It doesn't matter." I had to interrupt her before she hurts herself.

"No Mel," Again Sara reaches out to me and puts her hand on my shoulder. "It does matter. Lindsey doesn't replace you."

"Oh." I'm not ready to hear any of this. "When you look at me you still see your rapist, right?"

Sara's hand immediately drops from my shoulder. "I'm beginning to see you."

Her fancy words can't change reality. "I'm going to go take my pain meds." With as much dignity as I can muster, I hobble off to my room and close the door softly behind me.

Distance seems like a good idea at this point. There have definitely been too many emotions floating around me. I need time to think. I need time to figure out how I'm going to talk to Catherine about all this.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Mel, I really don't think this is a good idea." Jenny pulls her car into an available parking space in front of the Las Vegas Crime Labs, voicing her opinion for what seems like the thousandth time.

"Jenny this is a great idea. It's the only way I can talk to Catherine without Sara knowing what I'm doing." I open the car door and swing my legs to the pavement.

"Don't they have dead bodies in there?"

"It's not like they have them lying around in the hallways." I grab the top of the door frame so that I can get some leverage while exiting the car.

"This seems like a bad idea." Jenny's hands are still wrapped around the steering wheel and it doesn't look like she's going to be letting go anytime soon.

I shake my head and lift myself out of the car. "Then pick me up in half an hour, and make sure that you get here before Sara's shift starts."

"What if she comes in early?"

I shut the passenger side door and open the passenger's side back door so that I can pull out my crutches from the backseat. "Then she'll catch me."

"I'm going in with you," Jenny releases her death grip on the steering wheel. "Catherine may have you thrown out of her office."

"No she won't." I get my crutches settled under my arms and shut the car door. "She's not like that."

Jenny gets out of the car and straightens out her shirt. She looks like she's getting ready to walk into a battle zone or something. We're just going to walk into a crime lab so that we can talk to an employee. It's not really that big of a deal. I've watched enough television to know what I'm doing.

I straighten my own clothes out and hope that Catherine won't be offended with my attire. I haven't worn jeans since I got hurt. Mostly I just wear athletic pants with t-shirts now. I've got a wide variety of both Nike and Adidas clothes.

"Let's go." I start hopping towards the front door of the building knowing that Jenny will follow me.

When I get to the door, a man holds open the door for me and asks if he can help me. I give him a quick once over and decide that he's moderately harmless. "I'm here to see Catherine Willows."

"Is she expecting you?" Not exactly, but I'm sure she expects me to talk to her eventually.

"She should be." It's not exactly a lie.

"I can go get her for you," He kindly offers. "What's your name?"

Suddenly I'm very curious about something. "Do you work with her?"

He nods. "My name's Warrick Brown."

This guy has no idea who I am. I guess that means that as much as Catherine and Sara care they're not bragging about me to their co-workers. "I'm Melinda Si…" The last name would surely give me away. "My name's Melinda." I point to Jenny who has finally caught up with me and is standing awkwardly at my side. She's looking way too nervous. "And this is my friend Jenny. Ms. Willows should be expecting us."

"I'll go get her for you," He smiles widely at us both and starts walking away down some hallway that is probably forbidden to non-employees.

"He's cute," Jenny says as we watch him walk away.

"And he didn't know who I was." It seems like something worth mentioning.

"How do you know?"

"I didn't see any recognition in his face when I said my name."

"Maybe he didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable?"

No. He didn't know me. It's not like he needs to know about me or anything, but shouldn't parents talk about their kids to their co-workers or something? I bet he knows about Lindsey.

It doesn't take long for me to see Catherine walking towards Jenny and me. She looks surprised to see me. I thought she would be.

"Mel," the first thing she does is hug me. It's an awkward hug, especially with the crutches and our height difference, but Catherine does it any way. "What is it you need?"

I wasn't exactly expecting this kind of greeting, but I can work with this. "I just wanted to talk to you."

Catherine takes a look around and I get the feeling that she's busy. "Okay," she rests her hand on my wrist. "We can go talk in my office." She starts leading the way and I start following. Jenny tells me she's going to wait for me out here and walks to the nearest seat.

Catherine leads me through a maze of hallways until we reach what I'm guessing is her office. She walks inside, I hobble, and she takes a seat in front of the desk and motions for me to sit next to her. I put my crutches up against the desk then sit down next to her.

We look at each other and I know I'm supposed to be the one that starts off this conversation. I had a reason why I was coming here. It seemed like a good one at the time.

"So did your team not have practice today?"

Even though I've been put on the injured list, I still attend all the practices. I help the coach yell at them when they aren't performing to our high standards. The championships are less than a week away, and I've only recently found out that they aren't taking place in the capitol. They're actually happening right here in Vegas at someplace called the Orleans Arena, I think. "It was a short practice." I told Coach that I had a doctor's appointment.

Catherine nods. "So what is it you wanted to talk about?"

I look down at my lap and start wringing my hands together. I've got to gather up some of my courage here. "I'm sorry I threatened to hit you. That was way wrong of me."

"You're right, it was." So I guess she's not going to let this go at all. I wonder what she said to Sara about it. I wonder which one of them was trying to be on my side. If I had to lay a bet down then I would guess that neither one of them really felt like being in my corner. I can't expect someone else to defend me when I'm not so sure I can defend myself.

"It's lame I know, but that's the way I was raised. It's who I was taught to be." Saying that aloud makes it sound even lamer.

"I know."

"And I know I've got anger issues and I'm going to work on that, because I don't want to hit you or anyone really. At least, I don't want to hit them anymore." I've said too much with that.

"You've hit people before?" I knew Catherine wouldn't let that one slide by without notice.

I nod. "In my last high school people would come after me. It's no big deal."

"What do you mean people would come after you?" She's going to make a big deal of this.

I shrug. "Other students would try and fight me. They were just stupid."

"Why did they want to fight you?"

"Different reasons," I shrug again. "Some of them didn't like that I was smart and thought I cheated on tests and stuff. Some thought I took 'performance enhancing' drugs or whatever. Mostly they just came after me because I was set apart from them in some way or another."

"Does Sara know this?"

If I could stand up and start walking around, I would. Instead I have to settle for crossing my arms in front of me. "Why do you always ask that?"

Catherine starts reaching out for my thigh but takes a look at my eyes and stops her motion. There's a flicker of something in her eyes, but I can't quite identify what it is. "Because it's important, Mel. It's important for Sara to know these things about you."

I start tapping my good foot on the floor. "What does it matter?"

"This is going to sound bad, Mel, but we can't possibly start putting you back together if we don't understand how you fell apart."

So now I'm Humpty Dumpty? That's really brilliant. "Sara knows how I 'fell apart'." She lived through just about everything I did. "We were raised by the same people, in the same house, in the same neighborhood, in the same school, same state, same everything."

Catherine must forget whatever it is she saw in my eyes before because she reaches out for me and puts her hand on my bouncing thigh. "Some things are similar, but a lot of things are different."

"Instead of me confessing everything to Sara, why don't you talk her into confessing a few things to me?"

She pulls away from me and leans back in her chair. Her blue eyes look at me for a long moment then she releases a heavy sigh. "You have a point."

Of course I have a point, and it's a really good one. Catherine keeps on wanting to get me to talk, but it's not like they tell me a whole lot. They didn't even tell me abut their relationship, it's something that I had to figure out or more precisely something that was told to me by a thirteen year old.

I'm not stupid. I know there's a lot of stuff happening that they're not talking to me about. There's a lot stuff they're leaving me out of the loop with. Like for instance, what happened to Lindsey's father? No one talks about that, and I can tell there's some big story about that. Lindsey told me he died, but I didn't push her to say anything else. It wasn't that kind of conversation anyway. The kid was looking to me for guidance on how to handle it, and boy has she chosen the wrong role model.

None of that is my point though. My point is that sharing is a two way street. They've got to work with me here. I'm tired of being treated like Humpty Dumpty. I can't possibly be the only person in this little triangle thing we've got going on that needs help.

"I'll talk to," Catherine starts to say but interrupts herself; "you should talk to her."

Well that was certainly an inevitable outcome.

"So Sara talked to me about us all moving in together like, family or something." It's an extreme change of subject, but it doesn't even throw Catherine off guard. The woman's good.

"I would like that."

"You're not afraid for Lindsey?" I would be. I actually already am. Kids shouldn't be exposed to the kind of drama that's going to play out in my life with Sara. I plan on completely losing it at least a couple more times. I see it as pretty much inevitable.

"Melinda, I'm not afraid of you, I'm afraid for you." There's no hesitation in her reply, but I still don't understand what she's trying to say. I didn't ask her if she was afraid of me I asked her if she was afraid for Lindsey. I think she just dodged my question.

"So you are afraid for Lindsey?"

Catherine's body stiffens, but she quickly relaxes. She looks like she's going to try and lie to me. I can just tell. She looks like she's going to try and spare me this horrible pain of knowing the truth.

I wonder if Catherine knows that a closed fists and lies hurt a lot more than the truth does. Sara laying the bomb on me about her being my mother was the truth and I don't think that fazed me as much as realizing the big lie she had created about my existence. I was actually kind of happy to find out that Laura Sidle really wasn't my mother. It kind of gives me the power to yell at her that she's not my mother when my memories surface and her voice is screaming in the back of my head that I'm just like her.

"Fear's natural Catherine," I don't want to hear a lie. "I have enough battle scars to realize that."

"It's not you." She looks ashamed, but she shouldn't be. I understand her fear. I never know when I'm going to get so angry that I'm capable of violence. It would be kind of a scary thing if I wanted to think about it.

But, Catherine saying that it's not me is really stupid. It is me. It's not some garden gnome out to conquer the world or anything. It's me, Melinda Sidle, blood relative to her one and only Sara Sidle.

"The possible consequences of having you around Lindsey have occurred to me, but I honestly do believe that you won't hurt my daughter." I almost believe her and she probably almost believes herself, but we've both seen my anger and we both know I can't make any promises.

I reach out for my crutches and use my good leg to lift me from the chair. It's time for me to go now; I've said what I needed to. Catherine stands up and does that thing that always catches me off guard; she hugs me.

The hug is as awkward as the first one, but it did feel kind of good. Maybe it's something that I could get used to. "I'm glad you came to talk to me today, Mel. It means a lot to me that you're trying."

Trying? Is that what I'm doing? "You deserved an apology." It's not really that big of a deal. I can admit when I'm wrong... sometimes.

Catherine nods, but otherwise stays silent. She knows when not to push me too far out of my comfort zone and that's a good thing. It's unique too.

I take a single hop away from her and focus on the floor. Looking at her can make me uncomfortable sometimes. "Keep safe and uh... catch all the bad people." Totally lame.

She's amused or something because she grins. "Thanks."

I nod a couple of times. "So I'm going to leave now." I hobble towards the door and hop out of the office.

Somehow I figure out the way to the front of the building, and when I make it to the front desk, Jenny is sitting in a chair waiting for me and next to her Sara just happens to be sitting too. They both stand up when they see me approach, but neither says anything. That makes me wonder what they were talking about. It probably had something to do with me.

"Hey." Starting off with a non-hostile or defensive greeting seems like a good idea.

"Hi." They both respond.

I focus my attention on Sara. "You came into work early."

"There were some things I wanted to start on early." Sara shifts her stance. "You lied to your coach."

I shrug. "Apologizing to Catherine seemed more important than practice."

"That's good."

This conversation is going nowhere fast.

"Sara!" A guy calls from behind me. I turn around and am faced with a twenty something year old man who looks like a geek, possibly a cool geek but still a geek.

Sara says something under her breath, but I can't quite catch it. It didn't have a good tone though.

"Sara," he's standing right next to me now, "I've got those samples ready."

"I'll be right there." Sara doesn't sound too welcoming at the moment. She even looks a little uncomfortable. I guess she's not a big fan of those take your daughter to work days.

"Hey, you're the one that wanted me to tell you the...instant..." The geek loses his focus apparently, because now he's staring up at me. "Who's the Amazon?"

I raise my brow. "Someone is certainly lacking the social skills."

He blushes and looks away from me. "Sorry."

"Greg, this is my..." Sara pauses and looks directly at me. I know what she's going to say and it honestly hurts a little… or a lot. "This is my sister Melinda."

Greg points to me with his thumb. "This is your sister?"

I force a smile on my face. "I'm the one and only." I offer him my hand to shake.

He smiles back at me and takes my offered hand. "It's nice to finally meet you. We've been trying to get Sara to show you off ever since we found out about you, but she says you're always busy."

My hand falls out of his and goes back on my crutch. "Yeah, Sara's and my schedule always seem to be out of sync." It's time for me to go now. "One day maybe we can line things up."

I move away from him and chance looking at Sara. She looks like she wants to say something, but whatever it is isn't going to get past her lips.

"I'll see you later sis," Sara flinches at my little barb and I'm glad she does.

Jenny moves in front of me so that she can open the door, making it easy for me to make a smooth exit. I want Sara remembering this moment as the moment when she decided to refuse to introduce me as her daughter. I don't want this moment to be remembered as the one where I was fumbling with the door and trip on my way out.

When we get to Jenny's car she opens the door for me and takes my crutches to put them in the backseat. Quickly she makes her way over to the driver's side door and gets into the car. She starts up the engine but doesn't put the car in reverse.

"So that kind of sucked for you, huh?"

I blink rapidly a couple of times and look out the window. "I was hoping, but I wasn't expecting."

"Yeah, but she's human, Mel. She probably doesn't want to advertise to everyone that she was raped, and that's something that's bound to come up when you do."

I turn away from the window and look directly into Jenny's eyes. "That doesn't make me feel better."

Jenny offers me a weak apology, but ultimately she's right. When a baby appears people kind of expect there to be a father hanging out somewhere. It's almost sort of like a requirement. Unfortunately for me, babies really don't come from storks.

I was wrong before, the truth hurts as much as a lie and as much as a fist. "Are you afraid of me, Jenny?"

The change in subject catches her off guard and she gives me a funny look, but shakes her head. "No. Never."

"I think I inspire fear in a lot of people."

"Mel," Jenny puts her hand on mine, "you inspire a lot of things in me, but fear isn't one of them."

"What do I inspire in you?" I really want to know who I am when people look at me. I really want to know why my mother denies me.

Jenny squeezes my hand. "Melinda you're a very intelligent, funny, insightful, soulful, wonderful person."

So she didn't quite tell me what I inspire in her, but ego brushing is good too. "You forgot to add that I'm dark, tortured, sad, and an angry person." I'm just filling in the blanks.

"Yeah," Jenny smiles. "You are that too."

I smile genuinely at Jenny and give her hand a slight squeeze. "Thanks."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

I'm in bed when Sara gets home from work but not asleep. I've been up for quite some time now, and I probably should get out of bed and start getting ready for school. Jenny's going to be here pretty soon to pick me up.

Maybe I should have tried to be out of here before Sara got off work. I don't like getting up early, but I'm not deathly opposed to it either. If I had left early then I wouldn't be faced with the prospect of getting up and facing the woman I'm sharing residence with.

There's a knock on my door and I don't have to guess at who it is. "Come in."

The door opens slowly and Sara steps into the room. "I thought you'd be up by now. You usually are."

"I felt like being lazy." The bed is warm and comfy and the morning air is cold.

Sara walks over to my bed and sits down on the end. It looks like she's going to try and have a conversation with me. "I'm sorry for what happened earlier." It almost looked like it hurt her to apologize. "I wasn't ready for... no one knows that..."

"I'm not stupid," I interrupt her. If she goes on at this pace I'm never going to get to school. "I know you haven't told any of your work buddies about me and I know why. You don't have to explain yourself."

"Okay." Sara nods. "But it's not about you, it's about me."

It's really funny how everything about me really isn't about me. It's a near miracle actually. One could develop some kind of complex using this logic.

"Sara I get it, really." I sit up in the bed and throw the covers off of me exposing myself to the cool air. "I'm a walking advertisement to your past." Saying it that way seems a lot less harsh to my ears instead of being an advertisement to her being raped.

"I'm sorry Melinda," she whispers. "I want to be stronger."

I move to the end of my bed so that Sara and I are sitting close together. "This is going to sound mean, but I thought about all this a real long time and, Sara, I can't accept your apology."

Sara closes her eyes. "I didn't think you would."

"It's not because..." I sigh. "Ultimately I just think that I can't forgive you until you accept me as your daughter despite the circumstances. Every time you deny me you remind me my life was created through violence. You remind me that my father is scum and my existence is somehow... just wrong."

Sara opens her mouth to say something but I put up my hand to stop her. "I know that's not what you mean to do, but it is what you're doing and I really want to feel worth more than how you've unintentionally helped me feel for my entire life."

When Jenny and I got back to the apartment yesterday we ordered out Chinese food and sat around for a long time. We didn't talk or anything, but I was thinking a lot more than I usually try to. I had to figure out why Sara was able to hurt me so much.

It was never a mystery to either of us that I'm angry with her. I'm angry with her for all kinds of different reasons, but a big reason is because she makes me feel kind of worthless. I feel like I'm her hidden little dark secret that isn't worthy of the light.

Once I figured this out, I mentioned it to Jenny and she told me that I needed to talk to Sara. At first, I completely brushed off the idea because that would mean I would have to have a mature conversation with Sara where I express myself openly and admit to Sara having an affect on me.

Then, though, I realized that I'd continue hating and being angry at Sara if I continued to act like this particular thing didn't matter to me when it did. I'd continue to build up my anger and not let her know how worthless I feel next to her.

I'm not sure if Sara really needs to know about everything that happened to me when I was living with my grandparents, but she does need to know this. She needs to know this so that she can see me better, because I want this thing to work out between us. I do eventually want to be part of a family.

"I also think it would be a good idea if we moved in with Catherine." Sara opens her eyes and stares disbelievingly at me. "She acts as a good buffer between us and I don't feel worthless around her." I take a deep breath and release it slowly. "I'm not too sure how good I'll be with Lindsey, but I'll do my best to keep things capped until she's not around."

There's a knock at the front door, which means Jenny is here to pick me up. "I've got to get ready for school, but we can talk later and hash everything out." I get up off the bed and hobble over to my dresser and pull out some clothes. "Will you open the door for Jenny?"

Sara nods and stands up. She looks a little shocked and confused. I guess she wasn't expecting me to be forthcoming and mature, but obviously it can happen. I'm capable of doing conversations like this and acting open and honest. It may take me an entire night to resolve to do it and absolutely no sleep, but it can happen.

Sara walks out of the room and shuts the door behind her. I change from my pajamas to the clothes I've picked out as quickly as possible. My foot doesn't hurt as much today, but that may just be because I've got so many other things going on in my world. My brain doesn't have the energy to pay to my injured foot.

It takes me fifteen minutes to get ready fully. When I walk out of the bathroom Jenny and Sara are sitting silently together on the couch. They both look uncomfortable but they've never acted like best buddies. I wouldn't know what they would say to each other.

"You ready?" Jenny stands up. "We're going to be late."

"Yeah," I move my crutches so that they're in a more comfortable position under my arms. "We can go now; my bag is at the door." I didn't look at a single textbook last night. Usually I focus a lot on my studies. I always have, it always just seemed so much easier to deal with than everything else. So not doing my homework is sort of a big deal. So trying to continue to pretend that Sara doesn't affect me is already starting to wear a little thin.

I move towards the door but stop in front of Sara. "You should call Catherine and cement a moving date and all. If we do it early enough, then I won't have to lift anything and can just direct." It's not the best joke in the world, and it doesn't even rate high as an icebreaker, but it was something to say.

"I'll do that." Sara stands up she looks like she wants to make some kind of contact with me, but she's holding herself back. I think Sara holds herself back a lot.

"Good… I'm not going to have to share a room with Lindsey, right?"

Sara grins. "You get your own room."

Sara may not have the courage to do what she wants, and normally I wouldn't either but today is a new day and I'm feeling a lot unlike myself. With this conversation sort of behind me and feeling pretty good, I do what I think Sara wants and reach out and hug her.

It's not a strong hug and it's not all warm and comforting, but I think it's a step somewhere just like this entire morning has been thus far. This is me moving somewhere except backwards or sideways. This is me deciding to start meeting someone else halfway.

When I release Sara from my tentative and incredibly uncomfortable embrace she tells me to have a good day at school and I'm out the door. The entire way to Jenny's car, she's looking at me probably expecting me to tell her everything that has happened since the last time I saw her, which wasn't that long ago.

I don't say anything. It's not because I don't want to, but it's that I don't think it would be appropriate right now. Some things that happen between Sara and me should stay between us. I'll probably tell Jenny the story some day, but today isn't going to be it. I'd like to have Sara's take on things before I start calling this morning a complete success or anything.

"So I'm sorry I'm making us so late," I tell Jenny once we're on our way to the high school. "I could have probably planned things better, but my courage was dying quickly."

"It's no problem. Sometimes there are things that are more important than school." She gives me a sly look. "You may not have fully learned that yet, though."

"Hey!" I play to be offended. "I do more than study."

"Mel face it, your life consists of school, basketball, and your mama drama."

"Yeah, but with all that I'm working overtime." Jenny and I have never joked around before about my situation with Sara. This is the first time Jenny has even tried to do it. Today I must be letting off some kind of different vibe or something.

"That's true," Jenny sighs. "You're so busy with that I think you miss out on…" she sighs again but doesn't seem like she's going to finish her sentence.

"Miss out on what?" I prompt. I want to hear what it is I'm missing out on here.

There're a few moments of silence but Jenny eventually decides to answer me. "You're missing out on being a teenager."

"I don't know," I grin. "Aren't the teenage years supposed to seem like the most traumatic and dramatic of all time? Because I think I've got that covered."

Jenny shakes her head. "Your entire life has been traumatic and dramatic. You should get a chance at like, dating and stuff."

I chuckle. "Dating and stuff? I'm too messed up to be relationship material."

"You should give yourself more credit."

"Hey, I may be a pretty face but I'm not girlfriend' worthy."

"Don't say that about yourself." Jenny snaps surprising me a little. "You're worth a lot more than you think."

We pull up to the school parking lot and Jenny takes one of the few spaces left in the very back of the lot. "Jenny," something has certainly gotten into me today because I would never normally do this but hey today's a new day and tomorrow I can go back to being me, "I need a friendship now more than I need an intimate relationship."

She's not stupid; she has to know what I'm saying even though I'm not outright saying it. She has to get this, because I don't know how to have an honest conversation about this. It's something I've cleverly avoided for my entire life thus far.

"What says you can't have one without the other?" She whispers. "The last time I checked they weren't mutually exclusive."

I turn in my seat so that I'm facing Jenny. "Okay, let's say that they're not because it really doesn't matter anyway. I'm putting myself out a lot emotionally right now and I don't know…"

Jenny leans over and puts her fingers over my lips. "I get it." She looks at me for what seems like forever then slowly pulls away from me her fingers trailing down my chin. "I still think you should try though."

Doesn't she know how much one thing can complicate a person's life? My life is way over complicated right now. I can't handle thinking about anything else. I just started to try and possibly work on another complication I've got going on. I can't do this. I really cannot do this. There's no way I can do this. "Space and time are really important to me," it's an absent sentence. It doesn't fit in to anything.

"I'm not threatening to take that away," she responds softly. "I don't have that kind of power."

How does she know that? Because if I were to be honest I could admit that she just might. I've never really had a friend like Jenny before, a friend who's just kind of normal. I don't like letting people get close and now I'm trying to do that with four people.

"You are a threat." I can see the person I thought I was shriveling up in front of me right now and fading away. It's not the most comforting feeling in the world.

"I'll take that as a compliment." She opens her door and steps out of the car. She's at least willing to end this conversation for now, and that's a good thing. I can't be pushed into things right now. I can't think about too much at once. I have to keep focused on one goal at a time. "Are you going to get out of the car?" Jenny bends down so that she can get a good look at my non-moving body.

Apparently the rambling in my brain has incapacitated the rest of me. "Sure. School is good."

It'll probably take years for me to top the morning I've just had and the morning isn't even over yet. I still have an entire day filled with interacting with people. Maybe I shouldn't enter the school. I may end up on stage doing a monologue about my life or something.

"Hurry up. First period is almost over." Jenny shuts her car door but doesn't start walking away.

I open my door and climb out of the car. I get the crutches from the back as well as my backpack and am ready to start learning, but all I can think about at this very moment is, Try not to fuck your life completely in one day'.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

Every once and a while, Sara and Catherine have this great idea that we should all have dinner together. They've been trying to get us to do more things together; I guess family things, so that we can grow closer.

Tonight just happens to be one of those dinner nights, and I find it very unsettling that Lindsey isn't here. They tell me she's spending the night at her aunt's house. What they don't tell me is they both wanted to get me alone so that the three of us could have an incredibly awkward dinner. They failed to mention that this was a setup of some sort that obviously involves the three of us being alone together.

"So how is school going?" Catherine asks me from around a mouth full of spaghetti.

I swallow the piece of garlic bread I've been chewing on for a while so that I can answer. "It's going."

"How'd those tests go?" I managed to share with Sara that I was taking some tests that would give me college credit. Right now, I've got fifteen hours worth of college credit through these exams. I plan on being in college for only two years.

"They went." I take another bite of my bread.

"So the championships start this Friday, right?" I wonder if they planned this out any further than getting me here.

"They start Friday." I push the noodles on my plate around a little bit but there's not enough noodles left for me to create anything special. "So… you want to talk about something?"

Catherine and Sara exchange a quick look. "We just wanted to spend some time with you," Catherine eventually says.

"And I appreciate that, I think, but you aren't pulling off smooth here." I put down my fork and sit back in my chair. "What's going on?"

Once again they exchange a look that leaves me out of the loop. "We want to talk to you about changing a few things," Catherine answers. I cross my arms in front of me. "Really? Like what?"

"Well," Sara takes on this part, "we think we need to give you a few more boundaries."

Boundaries? "I don't get it."

"Since you've been here, I've let you do whatever you've wanted. That needs to change."

Sara just might be serious about all this. "Mel, Lindsey looks up to you and when you move in here she'll be taking a lot of her cues on how she should behave from your behavior." Catherine sets down her fork and pushes her plate a little bit away from her. "Lindsey's already been having a few problems and I would like you to be a good influence on her."

"As opposed to the bad one I already am?" I can't help but be a little sarcastic. I mean, it does sort of sound like Catherine and Sara are telling me I'm a wild child or whatever., which is kind of ridiculous since they don't even know how wild I can actually be. Since coming to Las Vegas I've actually sort of been on my best behavior. New city, new start and all that stuff.

"That's not what we mean," Sara immediately jumps in. "We just think it's important for you to set a good example for Lindsey."

It still kind of sounds like they're saying I'm a bad example, but maybe that's just me being weird. "Lindsey shouldn't be looking to me as the big example," I'm staring into my plate. "I know I'm not perfect role model material."

"Mel, you are a very good role model. You're an excellent student…"

"And that's pretty much where it ends," I interrupt Catherine. "I know my behavior is disrespectful and arrogant. I threatened to hit you Catherine; that's not good behavior. Let's be honest here."

"That is all true, but Mel, you want to change. We can tell that you're trying to change. We believe you can change." I wonder if Catherine was a cheerleader in high school. It could explain a few things.

"Well... how do you even know Lindsey gives a damn about what I'm doing?" I hardly spend any time with the kid anyway. We only hang out when Sara talks me into babysitting or we're doing the 'lets all get together' thing.

"Mel, she wants to start playing sports... on an actual team." Catherine's acting like this should surprise me. A lot of kids want to be on sports teams.

"She never showed an interest before you came." Sara explains further.

"I don't think you can put that on me." Lindsey may have discovered sports for a thousand different reasons and none of them being me.

Catherine gives me an easy grin. "Lindsey wanted me to get crutches so that she could look cool," she pauses for effect, "like you."

"She said you did tricks with them, but wouldn't tell us what they were." Sara's smile fades. "She also told Catherine to get the hell away from her."

"And she repeated to me that 'children are really only phantoms in a reality that parents wished they controlled'. Now I think my daughter is intelligent, Melinda, but I know she has no idea what that even means."

"So what kind of boundaries are we talking about?" Seems like Lindsey does listen to what I say. She's got a good mom. That's something she needs to realize. The kid's got ten thousand times more love in this home than I ever got growing up.

"Watch what you say around her." Catherine replies immediately.

"And watch what you say to us around her." Sara carries on.

"Be respectful and when you move in ask us for permission to go out. You're not an adult yet."

Sara opens her mouth to say something but I cut her off. "I know I'm not an adult. If I had been an adult then I wouldn't have had to move to Las Vegas to live with my... sister."

It's amazing how the word 'sister' has the ability to quiet down both Catherine and Sara. They don't know what to say about the word when it comes out of my mouth. I still can't call Sara, Mom. She's still not calling me, Daughter. Catherine... well I don't know how else I would address Catherine. Catherine's title is the easiest. It's also the least complicated.

"Melinda," Sara says carefully, slowly. "We have to change the way we talk to each other so that we can move forward."

"What ever happened to Lindsey's father?"

Instead of them looking at each other they look away. "It's not important right now." Sara eventually answers.

I nod my head a few times. "Of course it isn't." I get up out of my chair.

"Melinda, don't walk away." Sara looks directly at me and a shiver runs down my back from the force of her words.

But her words aren't enough to keep me here. While looking at her directly in the eyes, I reach out for my crutches and settle them under my arms. "If you want to change the way 'we' talk to each other so much, Sara, then try to fucking talk to me in the first place. Try telling me something about yourself instead of always asking about me. Don't you think I'd like to know who my mother is?" I didn't mean to say that last part. "Everyone who knows about us says I'm a lot like her." And yet I'm still talking. "I'd kind of like to meet her instead of being dictated to about change and boundaries."

I turn around to get away from them both only when I see the shock and pain settle in Sara's eyes. It's not like I want to hurt Sara all the time, but I'm tired of being hurt by her. I don't want to live with this thing hanging over us all the time. This thing sucks and I want to let it go, but I don't know how. I don't know how I can feel that I hate everything about Sara but still love her.

"Melinda," Catherine calls to me gently, but it's not going to stop me. I walk out of the dining room straight to the back door of the house. I feel like getting a little bit of fresh air. Being around them sometimes makes me feel like I'm suffocating.

I walk outside and sit down on the patio. Catherine doesn't have a dog, but I wonder if she would mind if we got one. The last time I escaped to a backyard, having that dog greet me was actually pretty nice. I could go for having a dog right now.

I'll have to talk to both of them about that. Dogs are supposed to be a big responsibility and all. That's what parents are supposed to say about dogs, right?

But Catherine and Sara aren't my parents, not really. My parents died in a car accident less than a year ago. They died and even though I absolutely hated everything about them, I did still love them. It looks like I've got a theme going on here.

"I hate you but I love you." It doesn't sound too stupid. "I want to know everything about you but I only want to hear things that will make me feel better."

Shit. I'm talking to myself now... aloud. I'm completely losing whatever I managed to have in the first place. Well, at least I'm honest with myself. I can lie to the world but I can't lie to myself. Did someone famous say that?

The back door opens and it's Sara. This time I was expecting her instead of Catherine. I left her with a pretty heavy departing sentence or sentences. It'd be wrong of her to send out Catherine. She takes a seat next to me, but doesn't say anything. I'm used to her not talking. After I told her we should move in with Catherine and gave her the truth of how things were for me, we never did talk about it again. Well, she never said anything.

She never said anything.

"Melinda, I don't know how to talk to you." That's an interesting opening statement. "You're intimidating to me."

I could say something, but I'm not going to. I've said what I needed to or wanted to. I don't need to talk right now and I prefer not to. "You're like this perfect kid," she isn't even looking at me. "You survived everything that happened to you and did it so much better than I did. I had to crawl back up to even participating in the real world. I hid behind at first school, then work... just anything that would keep me away from being part of life."

So something had to change. "It took a while, but Catherine helped me become someone again. She pulled me up from my anger and self-hatred. I don't know how to do that for you."

Well I'm not perfect and I don't have a big magic wand of answers either. I'm still not going to talk.

Catherine comes out of the house, but when she sits down she doesn't sit next to me, she sits next to Sara. She takes Sara's hand in her own and remains silent. She gives me just the briefest of looks. I wonder who she's out here to support?

"Part of facing you, means facing myself... and that's a very scary thing to do."

Does she really think I'm perfect? I'm not perfect. She knows I'm not perfect. Different people handle different things differently. I survived by fighting life at every turn. She says she wasn't a part of the real world well, I'm not sure I'm a part of it either. I participate in it, but I'm always dancing around on the outside. I'm pushing people away who want to make me part of this world. I've been living in my own for a while now, and it's been good.

"Facing you also means facing the decisions I've made," Sara took long enough to start speaking again. She probably wants me to say something, but I'm not going to. I refuse to talk. I've been talking too long already. "I don't know how to even begin to apologize for leaving you with your grandparents. I knew who they were, but for some reason I thought they just might leave you alone… I hoped they would leave you alone."

If Sara had bothered looking at her own scars once in a while maybe she would notice that there is no possible way that they would have magically stopped beating the shit out of kids just because I came along. They weren't going to stop the violence just because of me, there's no way she can even try and tell me she actually thought differently. Sara needs to come up with a better lie. "Why would you even think that?" I can't maintain silence forever. "How stupid are you?"

"Mel don't," Catherine starts saying but I see Sara squeeze Catherine's hand and the woman stops talking. She wouldn't have said anything interesting anyway.

"It was easier to think that." Sara tells me. "It was easier to believe they gave you a wonderful life."

"If you had bothered to check back in once and a while you would have seen…" It doesn't matter. This doesn't matter. "You made your choices, Sara, and I've paid for them. That's never changing."

"I know that." She looks away from me. "That's something else I have to face."

I reach down and pull up my right pant leg all the way up to my mid-thigh. There's a jagged scar on the top of that leg. It's ugly and it hasn't faded because I was cut so deep. "Look at this," I order both Sara and Catherine. "Look at what your father did to me because I tried to stop him from hitting your mother." Catherine doesn't look at my thigh, she stares at my face and Sara doesn't even lift her eyes to me. "Look," I repeat but with more force. I grab Sara's free hand and run her fingers over the scar. "They were fighting and I thought I could stop it. I thought I could make everything better if I was just a little stronger, then a little better, then absolutely perfect." Sara tries to pull her hand out of my grip, but I'm holding on too strongly.

"Let go of my hand," Sara would sound calm if her voice wasn't shaking so much.

"Does this hurt you?" I ask harshly. "Does seeing this hurt you?"

"Melinda," Catherine warns.

"No!" I refuse to take it easy on Sara now. "Does this hurt you?" I ask Sara again. "Does it?"

"Yes!" Sara rips her hand out of mine. "Yes."

"When he stuck the letter opener through my leg and I pulled away this hurt a lot too. But that pain will never hurt me as much as me knowing that you put me in that home and you left. You left me there and you didn't think about it because it was easier for you." I slide away from Sara's reach. "So while all this is real difficult on you and while you have to face everything stop for just a moment and think about how difficult this just might be on me."

I'm done with this. I'm done. I can't do this anymore.

I try to get up so that I can walk away from them both again but Sara forcefully pulls me back down to her. "I've never stopped thinking about you." She's started crying. "I could never stop thinking about you."

Something falls from my face and I reach up to feel my cheek. I'm crying too. I don't much like crying. I got in trouble for doing it just one too many times.

"You're my daughter, Melinda." Sara says through her tears. "Despite everything, you're my child."

I wipe the tears from my face and try to force the tears away. "Then why did you leave me? Why do you..."

Sara pulls me closer to her. I'm too weak at the moment to fight her. Her conviction is stronger than mine. "I love you, Melinda."

Catherine reaches around Sara and takes hold of my free arm. "We love you, Melinda."

I chuckle; it's weak too. "You hardly even know me."

"Doesn't matter. I love you anyway."

"I've screwed up, Melinda." Sara looks at me unwaveringly. "I know that, but you said there's time for me to make a difference. Please Melinda, please give me that time. Give me that chance. Give us that chance."

She's begging me. We're both on the ground and she's begging me. "Does that mean I can start calling you Mom now?" I don't know why I'm even asking. I'm a long way from wanting to call Sara, Mom. I don't know. Maybe I'm testing her. Maybe I'm asking so that if she denies me it'll give me a reason to believe that they're lying to me, that they're saying this stuff so that they can find a way to control me.

Sara takes a quick look at Catherine, but her eyes are focusing on me within moments with more intensity than I ever remember seeing in her before. "Only if that's what you want."

* * *

**Again, I want to thank everyone who has taken their time to review _Mad World_. I greatly appreciate your comments. **


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

"Hey Lindsey, let me holler at you for a minute." Catherine and Sara are downstairs watching some tired movie about true love. Lindsey just got home and she completely blew off the both of them.

Girl's getting a bit of an attitude. She really can't be picking up all my bad habits. She just needs to develop some of her own. At least some habits that I can't directly be blamed for.

Lindsey throws her backpack on the floor. "What's up?"

I hobble into her room and shut the door behind me. "You're disrespecting your mom."

Lindsey gets a disgusted look on her face. "What do you care?"

"I care enough to talk to you about it."

Lindsey puts her hands on her hips. "You're not my mother."

I shrug. "You're not talking to your mother, so it's a good thing I'm not."

"Did she put you up to this?"

I shake my head. "Not really. They talked to me about some stuff, but they didn't say a thing about me talking to you."

"What did they talk to you about?"

This girl has a lot of questions. "Stuff. We talked about stuff."

"Well what stuff?" She also has a lot of attitude.

"My stuff." I try to keep my annoyance out of my voice. I don't want to fight with her.

"Your stuff?"

"My stuff." I repeat evenly. "My issues. My relationship with my mother. My fu..." I have to watch what I say. "My messed up life."

Lindsey's hands drop from her waist. "Figures."

"What figures?"

"They're always involved with you now... or work."

"You jealous?"

"No." Lindsey turns away from me.

"Is that why you suddenly got this bitch-fest of an attitude?" There was probably a better way for me to say that.

Lindsey keeps her back to me. "I don't have an attitude."

"Lindsey, you have to remember that you've got two people downstairs who really love you. You don't want to mess with that." I'm tired of standing. I hobble over to Lindsey's bed and sit down. I lay my crutches on the floor and push them a little bit under the bed.

"How would you know?" She finally turns around to face me, her arms crossed in front of her.

"Because I don't...didn't have it."

Lindsey's arms fall to her side. "What do you mean?"

I'm probably not the person who should be making a decision about what's appropriate for this girl to hear, but since I'm the one here now I guess I'm the only one to make the decision. "Come take a seat." I pat the other side of the bed. "This is going to be a long story."

Lindsey gives me a dubious look, but ultimately decides I'm harmless and takes a seat on the other side of the bed. I wonder how much Catherine and Sara have told Lindsey. Do they keep her as out of the loop as they do me? What do they tell her?

Well, I'm not her parent. At best, I guess I could be considered an older stepsister, or at least in the future that could be my title. "What do you know about me ending up in Vegas?"

"Mom told me that your parents died and you had to come live with Sara," Lindsey immediately answers.

"She tell you that Sara was my sister?"

"No," Lindsey shakes her head. "She said you were Sara's family."

Hmm. It seems like Catherine plans ahead. "Well you do know that Sara's my biological mother, right?"

Lindsey nods. "Yeah."

"Well I didn't know that until a few weeks after I came to live here."

Lindsey shrugs. "I kinda figured."

So now comes the hard part. "When I was staying with my parents, it was a hard life. Any of your friends ever tell you their parents hit them?"

Lindsey's eyes widen. "No."

"Well, I'm sure your mom talked to you about anyone ever hurting you or your friends. She probably told you it was a bad thing to do and all that."

"She did."

I lick my lips and take a couple of swallows. "Well do you know who you run to when your parents are the one's beating up on you?"

"Your teacher?" she doesn't sound too confident.

"That's what they say, but you feel like you can't run to anyone." I'm starting to lose my point here. I came in here to talk to Lindsey about something specific. "What I'm trying to say is that I was raised in that kind of home. My parents beat on me all the time. They said it was love, but that wasn't love. People who hit you like that don't love you."

"My dad drank a lot," Lindsey softly admits. "He hit me once... Mom doesn't know about it. I thought if I told her she wouldn't let me see him anymore."

"You're probably right about that, but that would be only because she loves you so much."

"I think I remember him hitting Mom too."

I didn't mean to have this kind of conversation with Lindsey. I thought I'd just give her firm talking to and walk out of the room. This wasn't supposed to be confession central time.

"You miss your dad, huh?"

She nods. "Do you miss your parents?"

Do I? Is there something about the life they gave me I miss? "Some things I miss, but your dad was probably a lot better person than they were."

"I don't think he was." Lindsey's attention falls to her bed comforter. "Mom doesn't speak bad about him, but I can tell she didn't like him. I don't think Sara liked him either."

"Sara knew him?"

"She's the one who was supposed to solve his murder."

Murder? "So she didn't solve it?"

"No," she answers softly. "Mom and her broke up after that."

Broke up? Maybe I should have sat down and talked to Lindsey about all this before. "How long were they separated?"

"A few months." Lindsey finally lifts her eyes from the bed and looks at me. "It was hard."

I'm starting to feel a little out of my depth. "I'm sure it was... for everyone. It was probably really bad for you since you probably didn't understand all that was going on."

"It was. I didn't understand why Mom was so angry with Sara." Well I can't help with her understanding that.

"There was probably a lot going on that you didn't see or didn't hear."

"I heard Sara asking Mom why she let me see my dad still." Lindsey's eyes are starting to glisten and she looks like she's going to start crying. I take a quick look around for something that will make the tears magically never appear. I've got nothing.

"Sara thought me being around my dad was dangerous."

When what Lindsey says actually registers in my brain, I let out a sardonic chuckle. Lindsey gives me a dirty look. "It's not funny."

The grin I know that was on my face disappears. "I know it's not. That's not what made me laugh. Sara ends up being a little different for me." Now Lindsey looks confused again. "Lindsey, my relationship with Sara is a lot different than yours. We've got a thick history of pain."

Lindsey doesn't look any less confused. "Lindsey, what all this you've said means really, is that you've got two people downstairs who care a whole lot about you. Why on earth would you want to mess with that?"

Lindsey looks away from me. She doesn't have an answer, not that I expected her to. "I know you're coming into this big teenage world and think you know everything, but try not to give your mom too hard of a time."

"You give them a hard time." I knew she would eventually bring that up.

"That's different?" I have no idea how to explain this.

"Why?"

"It just," I can't finish this sentence. It sounds stupid too stupid to my ears. "Obviously I have to try and be better too." I apparently am going to have to accept boundaries. "So we work on it together?"

She doesn't look like she's going to cry anymore. Maybe I said something right. "We try together."

There's a knock on the door and immediately both Sara and Catherine are coming into the room. I guess they thought Lindsey and I had been alone together a little too long. "Everything going okay in here?" Catherine asks.

"We were just talking about getting a dog," I wink at Lindsey. "We both think it's a fantastic idea."

"A dog?" Catherine doesn't believe me, but I bet she's smart enough to let this go.

"Dogs require a lot of work." Sara says.

"Well I'm going to be home more now that the basketball season is ending." I shrug. "I'll be able to watch over Lindsey when you both are working and care for the dog."

"I don't have to go to Aunt Nancy's all the time." Lindsey's smiling now. "I always wanted a dog, Mom, but you said we couldn't care for it. With Mel here we can care for it now."

"You'd be willing to care for Lindsey every day while we work?" Sara asks me directly.

I take a look at Lindsey then turn my attention back to Sara. "I'd be more than willing. We've got to become a family somehow."

"We'll have to think about it," Catherine tells us.

"About the dog or me watching Lindsey?" I ask.

"Both." She says.

"Well as long as you're thinking about things," I grin, "can you also think about buying me a car?"

"Definitely not," Sara replies immediately leading me to believe she didn't think about it at all.

I turn my attention to Catherine. "You've got to at least think about it. I'm going to be seventeen in a few months and I'll need a car. Especially if I'm going to be participating in the care of Lindsey."

"Hey!" Lindsey interjects. "I don't need to be cared for. I can do it myself."

"You're too young," Sara, Catherine, and I reply all at once then look oddly at each other. We all agree on something. It kind of sucks for Lindsey though.

"We'll think about the car." Catherine says.

I've just remembered something. I'm surprised I hadn't thought of this before. "It won't cost you anything. My parents had a life insurance policy."

"What?" Catherine asks me, but is looking at Sara. I forgot to tell Sara about it too. I took care of everything before Sara even came to pick me up. I think I've got the paperwork hidden deep in my stuff at the apartment somewhere.

"Both of them had a life insurance policy that added up to a little under a million dollars, I think."

"A million dollars?" Sara asks.

I shrug. "I think. They wanted me to have money to go to college and… uh for stuff." Maybe I just wanted to forget about the policy. Them even leaving it for me means they thought about me in a way other than a punching bag. "They also said I'd be the executor of the estate when I turn eighteen, until then some lawyer is in charge."

"They did that?" Sara seems as thrown off by them thinking about taking care of everything as I am... or probably was at the time.

"So I can get the car right?" I don't want to linger on the insurance money too long. I have to think about things before I decide to talk about them.

"That'd be so cool," Lindsey says excitedly. "I wouldn't have to feel so embarrassed with you taking me and my friends around anymore, Mom."

Maybe Lindsey isn't the best person to have fighting on my side. "We'll think about everything," Catherine replies with a certain note of authority in her voice.

"That's cool." I'll end up with a car eventually. I can buy my own when I turn eighteen. I'll have a million dollars when I'm eighteen.

That actually seems kind of daunting. I should give Sara the number of that lawyer and a copy of the insurance policies. This is probably one of those things that need to still be worked out. Sara and I haven't done anything to settle her parents' estate. We're probably going to have to go back there.

I know I don't want to do that. I want the house to be torn down. I can probably afford to do that when I'm eighteen too. I should start making a list.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

"I miss the beach." My feet are propped up on the railing of the balcony and the cool breeze is cooling down my heated skin. Kendra, LaTasha, and Jenny are sitting out here with me. The rest of the team is inside the hotel room flipping through the channels on the TV or messing around.

The tournament has finally begun, and even though none of us had to drive too far to get to the Orleans Arena we all get to stay in a hotel anyway. It's part of the whole experience. We've been assigned four to a room, which means we have five rooms. The coaches each got their own room.

"Did you live near the beach in California?" Kendra asks.

"Close enough." I sigh. "My...grandmother would take me to the beach sometimes and let me run off all my extra energy."

"You still see your grandparents?" LaTasha asks. She doesn't know that I'm actually talking about the woman I thought was my mother. No one out here but Jenny knows that.

"She died in that car accident I told you about." There's no point in hiding things anymore. The truth will get out somehow.

"I thought that was your Mom?" Christina asks from behind me. The rest of the team must have smelt a good story coming on, because most of them have magically appeared on the balcony.

I think Jenny believes she's being discrete, but she somehow manages to slide her way past all the bodies so that she's sitting on the armrest of my chair. It probably would have been less obvious if she had decided to sit on my lap.

"I thought it was my mom, at the time." I answer after I think everyone is settled around me. "I found out not that long ago that my sister is actually my biological mother."

"Is your father actually your brother?" LaTasha jokes.

I give her an unamused look and Kendra does me a favor and smacks LaTasha upside the head. It's good to know if I can't get to her then someone else will. "I'll probably never know my father. Sara was raped then I was born."

"That sucks," Rebecca replies from somewhere behind me. "Did he ever get caught?"

I shake my head. "Nope."

"So your sister is your mother?" Eboni replies belatedly. "That's cool."

I know this team well enough to know that they're not going to ask anymore questions. They all like hearing these fantastic stories about my life and all, but they're not going to push me to talk about anything I don't want to talk about. They're probably the best bunch of people I've ever known. I wonder how they got that way.

There's a pounding on the hotel door, and from the other side Coach is yelling at us to all return to our rooms and to get some sleep. Our first game is at nine in the morning and our curfew was ten o'clock. I take a quick glance at my wristwatch and see that it's nine fifty-five p.m.

I'm already in my hotel room, so there's no place for me to go but everyone else gets up and starts gathering their things so that they can leave. Well, everyone except Jenny, Kendra and Rebecca. It's their room too.

It doesn't take long for the four of us to be alone and preparing for lights-out. Kendra takes the bathroom first and Rebecca is inside the room talking on her cell phone saying goodnight to her boyfriend. She hasn't talked to him for probably a full two hours. I don't know how she manages the whole relationship thing. It seems kind of demanding to me.

Jenny and I are still on the balcony overlooking the Orleans Arena, awaiting our turns to ready for bed. That's one thing about having four people to a room with only one bathroom; things take time.

"You're doing a pretty good job of not letting the team know how upset you are about not being able to play tomorrow."

"I promised I wouldn't." Even if it is tearing me apart inside. I didn't even have to stay in the hotel. Coach gave me the option of just showing up for the game; she said she'd understand if I didn't want to hang out with everyone. I couldn't do that to them though. Spending almost three days in a hotel/casino with the team is supposed to be half the fun.

Jenny moves closer to me and puts her hand on my shoulder. "They're all really happy that you're here."

I take Jenny's hand from my shoulder and pull her around in front of me. "And you?"

She smiles. "I'm happy you're here too."

"Then everyone's happy."

"Sure."

A knocking on the glass sliding door practically makes me fall out of my chair. When I turn around to see who just gave me a heart attack, I see Kendra laughing. "You two have to stop the foreplay now." I can barely hear her through the glass. "It's your turn for the restroom."

I'm glad it's dark out here, because I think I'm blushing. "Piss off." I yell back to her.

"I'll give you two minutes," Kendra holds up the appropriate amount of fingers. "Then you've got to let Jenny go to bed. She has to perform tomorrow." She's kind enough to close the curtain on the door before she walks away, leaving Jenny and I a little more privacy.

"That was a little embarrassing," Jenny admits when I turn back around to face her. "I didn't think they knew I was..."

"It doesn't matter," I interrupt before she can finish. "They can make up all the stories they want to."

"But it's not a story. I really am gay." She's never outright said that to me before. It's a little shocking.

"I meant they could make up the stories they wanted to about us." I have no idea what I really meant, but that sounds like a good recovery.

"I could tell them the truth," Jenny softly offers. "They might not believe it, but I could still tell them."

"What truth?" There are many versions of it, I think.

"That we aren't together." Jenny looks away from me. "That you aren't gay."

I smirk. "Who said?"

"Does that mean you are?"

"Your time's up." Kendra slides open the door. "You both have to officially break the love fest up." She reaches out and grabs Jenny's arm then drags her back into the hotel room. "Go get ready for bed."

Jenny looks back at me over her shoulder and I wink at her. I don't remember winking at anyone before. She bursts out in a smile and let's Kendra pull her towards the bathroom.

I reach out and get my crutches from their place in the shadows up against the wall. I stand up and settle the crutches underneath me. When I get into the hotel room, Rebecca and Kendra are each sitting on the different beds in the room.

"We can't let you two sleep in the same bed," Rebecca tells me after I've been standing in the middle of the room looking between the beds for longer than is probably necessary.

"We're supposed to sleep tonight." Kendra adds.

I look between the two of them then choose who's going to be my bed partner for the next couple of nights. I've never had to share a bed before. That was one of the pluses, I guess, from being mainly an only child. No one really invaded my space all that much.

Maybe I should just sleep on the floor. My back has been a little sore lately, the floor could clear that problem right up. All I need is a blanket and a pillow. I don't even necessarily need a pillow.

"Is there something wrong?" I hear Jenny's voice ask from behind me. She sounds concerned. I must look like I'm really freaking out here. It has been a while since I've had a panic attack. Maybe it's time for me to have another.

Jenny reaches out for me, but I shy away from her touch. I have to figure out why I'm freaking out. It can't be about the bed situation; that doesn't make any sense.

So what was I thinking about when I looked at the beds? I wasn't thinking about anything. Then I started thinking about being an only child and being in bed alone. I never had to sleep with anyone before.

'You think you can sneak out of this house, Girl.' Laura Sidle's voice is never going to get out of my head. 'Try breaking through those straps. You're stuck here until I say you can leave. You can't ever run away.'

She had me strapped to that bed for a solid week. She called the school and told them that I got the flu. When I returned to school I was weak and thinner than before, but all that was because of the flu. It was going around bad that year.

"Melinda," Jenny calls to me carefully. "You're not strapped to anything."

Did I say something aloud? I don't remember saying anything aloud. It's Laura's voice; it's not mine. She's the one that won't get out of my head. I always hear her laughing at me. I have no idea why she's laughing, but she is.

"I have to go." I head straight for the door and only realize that I'm no longer using my crutches when an excruciating pain flies up my leg from my foot. I don't yell out, instead I bite down on my tongue until I can taste blood. Now my tongue hurts a lot.

I get past the pain in my foot, but don't go back for my crutches. I force myself to walk out of the hotel room. "Melinda," Jenny is right behind me. "Where are you going?" She has one of my crutches in hand and gives it to me.

"I can leave if I want to," I can hardly recognize my own voice. I sound panicked and desperate.

"You can," Jenny doesn't stop me, she keeps up with my pace and doesn't try to reach for me again. "But maybe you should tell me what's going on first."

"I'm fine." Well now, that's obviously not true. I've got to settle down. I'm in a hotel/casino in the middle of Las Vegas, and I have no where to run to or nothing to run from.

We reach the elevator on this floor and I push the button to go up. "Mel, you're not fine. You just tried to walk away without your crutches." The door to the elevator opens and Jenny follows me inside. I push the button for the roof. I hear they have a nice pool up there.

"She's in my head." This elevator is moving pretty slowly. I wonder what time they close off the pool on the roof.

"Sweetie," Jenny reaches out and takes my hand, "who's in your head?"

At some moment, my higher brain functioning is going to kick in and I'm going to be able to stop whatever it is I think I'm doing. I'll turn to Jenny and I'll tell her exactly what is going on with me. I'll explain everything.

The doors to the elevator open and I try to step through them, but Jenny holds me back. "Why do you want to go on the roof?"

I don't have an answer to that. It's the place closest to the air? That doesn't sound very sane. I don't feel very sane at the moment. "I'm not going to jump," I tell her. "I don't want to jump."

Jenny loosens her grip on my arm and I'm able to jump through the elevator doors right before they close. Jenny doesn't quite make it. There isn't anyone up here, right now but that's probably because it's freezing out here. The last I heard it was winter and it tends to get cold at night.

I make my way over to the pool and look down into it. The water isn't a glistening blue, but I jump in anyway. I let myself sink to the bottom and decide to stay there. It's quiet down here. I can't hear her anymore.

If I want to jump into a freezing pool in the middle of the winter then I can do that. I'm free to go anywhere I want whenever I want. Laura Sidle does not control me. She can never control me again.

She can't tie me down to any beds and watch me try and break free of the binds. She can't yell at me anymore. She can't do anything. Laura Sidle no longer has a voice.

There's a splash from above me and when I look up I see Jenny reaching for my body. She's offering me her hand, and I decide to take it. The water is way too cold for me anyway.

Jenny pulls me to the surface with her and I take a big breath of fresh air. I feel like I can breathe again. I also feel like I've just exposed myself to getting hypothermia.

"What the hell were you doing?" Jenny shouts at me as soon as we're both safely on the pavement.

"Felt like taking a dip." I answer through my gasps of air.

Jenny stands up and walks over to a stand that's housing a lot of towels. "Should I even ask you why?"

A couple of towels hit me in the face, and I immediately start to use them to dry off my body. "I needed it to be quiet." And it worked. So it couldn't have been that crazy of an idea.

Jenny comes back over to me and sits down almost on top of me. "Are you going to tell me who you had to shut up now?"

"Laura Sidle." There's no point in hiding it.

"So she strapped you down?"

I give a slight nod. "To a bed for a week. She told me I could never run away."

"How old were you?"

"Eight. It was after the first time and last time I tried to run away." Talk about effective parenting techniques. I never tried to run away again. I didn't want to risk that punishment.

"I'm sorry," Jenny whispers.

I shrug. "You didn't do it."

"I'm still sorry it happened."

I release a long sigh. "So am I."

We sit there for a few moments more wrapped up in some relatively cheap towels, until I suggest we head back to the room. It wouldn't be a good idea to let Jenny get sick before the tournament even begins. It's a bad idea to get rid of all our star players.

"I should tell you something." Jenny says right before I get ready to try and achieve a standing position.

"What?" I ask cautiously, not quite sure what I should brace myself for.

"When you stormed out of the room, I told Kendra to call Sara."

"You have her work number?"

Jenny shakes her head. "I have her cell number. She gave it to me just in case anything..." Her voice starts to trail off slowly then just dies.

"She has you watching over me?"

"She's just worried about you."

I smirk. "Didn't say it was a bad thing." It probably is actually a good one. Who knows what would happen if I was left completely on my own in this big wide world. I'd probably be fine.

"So you don't mind?"

"Nope." I roll to my side and put my good foot flat on the ground. If I can lift myself up with my good foot, then I won't have to mess with the bad one. It hurts a whole lot at the moment. Too bad I gave up on taking those pain meds. I heard they were addictive.

Jenny takes my hand and pulls me up from the ground. I've got a little too much momentum and end up falling into her body. We almost fall to the ground again, but Jenny gains her balance and gives me mine.

For a moment we're breathing each other's air, but I soon pull away. "Thank you."

Jenny's confused. "For what?"

"For not calling me crazy and for being crazy enough to follow me up on this roof in the winter to jump in a pool with me."

"Anytime." I'm sure she really doesn't mean that. Exposing oneself to hypothermia can't be the best of times. "Just try not to do it again anytime soon."

I give a soft chuckle. "I'll try not to."

We're not moving anywhere. We should go back into the building. We both need to put on some dry clothes. Our roommates are probably worried. They may have woken up the entire team by now. Sara may even be looking for me right this very moment. Catherine is probably with her too.

It's time to go.

Before I get a chance to realize what is happening to me at this particular moment, I feel Jenny's lips on my own and I don't get a chance to think about it. It's just happening and I'm letting it happen. I'm letting our bodies come together. I'm letting my body do something and feel something that it hasn't in a while.

I don't hear the elevator doors open, but they must have, because I hear Catherine's voice amusedly say, "I was told there was an emergency."

Jenny and I pull apart slowly. This is just the way a first kiss should end. Everyone should be caught by their mother's girlfriend.

"And you're wet," Catherine comes up to us both. "And you don't have your crutches." She looks down at my foot.

"I think it's at the bottom of the pool," I tell her. "I don't remember throwing it away before I jumped in."

"You jumped into the pool?" Catherine asks slowly.

"I heard her voice." Catherine gives me this weird look, but soon comprehension falls into place.

"I pulled her out," Jenny adds, I think, just to fill the silence.

"Come on." Catherine throws my left arm around her shoulder. "We've got to get you two out of this cold." She lets me use her as a crutch and soon we're all standing in the elevator watching the floors tick by.

"So are you going to tell Sara about this?" I know she's not talking about me jumping into a pool. Telling Sara about that is kind of a given at this point.

"If I don't, are you?"

Catherine looks at me for a long moment, but eventually shakes her head. "It's not my thing to tell."

"I think me jumping into a pool in the middle of the night is enough to tell Sara in one night." Everything else will just have to wait until I've got it figured out. I should probably talk to Jenny before I talk to Sara. Hell, I should probably make an effort to have a little conversation about this in my own head.

"It's your choice." We reach our floor and see Sara heading towards the elevator. She looks worried.

"What the hell happened to you?" She immediately takes Catherine's place and wraps an arm around my waist. "Why are you wet? You're freezing. We need to dry you off."

She's talking really fast. "I jumped into a pool." I figure that answers both her questions.

Sara looks at me for a long moment, but let's whatever it is she wants to say slide. "We need to get you dried off."

For now, everything needs to be forgotten until Jenny and I can get into some dry clothes and warmed up a bit. I could go for a nice cup of coffee now or maybe even tea. Hot cocoa would probably be best. I can sit down and tell Sara and Catherine my story about freaking out over a nice warm cup of cocoa.

It sounds like a perfect plan made by a crazy person. I've got to get these freak out moments in control. It's just not smart to jump into a pool in the winter. It's also not smart to try and walk on my left foot. I probably set my recovery time back a week or two.

I've got to find a way to get my brain back in working order. These moments aren't normal for me. None of this is normal for me.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

I take as much time as possible in the shower. In the bathroom I'm allowed to be alone with my own thoughts and I don't have to worry about explaining anything to anyone. I don't have to worry about what I'm going to say to Jenny and I don't have to worry about the conversation I'm going to have with Sara.

I'm still not too sure how I'm going to tell her that I was strapped to a bed for a week by her mother. That seems like it could start off another fight between us. I know that when I'm talking about it I'm going to end up getting angry at her again for leaving me there. She's certainly not going to get me to confess to her that the only reason I was trying to run away in the first place was so that I could try and find her. I knew she was at Harvard University and I was set on finding her.

I was too young to even think of having a plan on how I was actually going to get to Harvard, but I was certainly going to go and find my big sister Sara. She would come down from her big university and she would protect me from the monsters in the house.

How stupid was I? How absolutely stupid was I? Sara wasn't going to come. There was no way for me to find her. I was eight years old and I didn't know how to find anyone.

Plus, I got caught. I got caught by the person I thought was my mother and was strapped to a bed for a week and told that I could never get away. I couldn't get away. I still can't get away.

There's a soft knock on the bathroom door then Catherine's voice asks me if everything is okay. Maybe she's afraid that I might be drowning. I don't want to drown. I think I've been drowning too long already.

"I'll be out in a minute," I tell her. I won't be ready in a minute though. I don't know how to prepare myself for my conversations with Sara anymore. I always say something that I don't really want to say or show her something I don't want to show her. I'm unable to keep everything under control.

With my towel I wipe off the fog on the mirror. I don't look too distressed, and I think I need a hair cut. I don't like my hair getting this long.

What am I doing? I need to go out into that big room and sit across from Catherine and Sara and possibly Jenny and face the music someone else has created. It's time for reality to strike once again.

I throw my towel over my shoulder and pick up the wet clothes I threw on the floor. I look around for a place to hang them up and decide to put them on the edge of the tub. I'm not going to put them back in my bag with all my clean stuff.

Once I've got everything settled, I turn to the bathroom door and open it in one swift motion. My foot is still killing me so I'm going to focus on that pain right now. It'll take my mind off everything I'm going to be saying.

"You feel better?" Jenny is still in the room. I wasn't sure she was going to stay. She could have gone to another room with our team members where there's less drama taking place.

"I feel warm and clean." I tell her, only focusing on her. I don't want to see Sara and Catherine just yet. Maybe we could save this conversation for another day.

"You want to tell me why you jumped into that pool?" I guess my actions won't allow Sara to put this on hold until later. I should really try to be saner when I go off the deep end.

I put my arm around Jenny's shoulder for support. She leads me over to the bed across from Sara and Catherine. Sara doesn't say anything about Jenny's body being so close to mine and Catherine gives me a brief look but doesn't say anything either. I don't see us doing anything inappropriate. I'm not using my crutches and my foot isn't strong enough yet for me to walk on it without some kind of support.

Once we're seated Sara asks, "You're comfortable with Jenny sticking around?"

I shrug. "She followed me into a pool." That should be reason enough for her to stay, right?

Sara leans forward and places her elbows on her knees. "So what happened with that?"

I think she looks anxious or nervous or something like that. I'm not too sure what the difference between the two is anyway. I'm sure if I did a search on the words I'd find out. The internet is helpful in that way. "Can I put a disclaimer on this conversation?"

"Disclaimer?" Now Sara looks confused. That's something I've seen on her before. It doesn't show so much in her face as it does her eyes. I've figured out that she's an expert at only showing her emotions through the glint in her eyes. It's like a door shuts there when something comes up she's not comfortable with or sure about.

I nod. "Disclaimer. I want to tell you that I'll get angry when I tell you this, but I won't run away. I'll face you."

Sara doesn't know what I'm talking about. The door is still closed in her eyes, but Catherine gets it. Her eyes are just as expressive as Sara's but with her there isn't a door. She makes people guess what the glint in her eyes mean. Is it anger? Is it pain? Is it nothing at all? Right now she's guarded. When I'm sitting in front of Sara and we're about to have an uncomfortable situation, Catherine always looks guarded. I don't think she's figured out the role she's supposed to play between Sara and me yet.

Every time I yell at Sara or lash out at her in some way, Catherine always looks like she wants to scream at me or lunge at me. There's something she wants to say that I don't think her higher brain functioning is letting her get out. Maybe she wants to be fair about everything and give me a chance. It's obvious she doesn't want to push me away too far. In a pathetic way she's the only link I've got directly to Sara.

I said before that she was a good buffer and I honestly meant that. Catherine lets Sara and I talk to each other in a common language. I'm often too upset to listen to Sara and Sara's too...I don't know to listen to me. It's hard for us to hear each other sometimes or maybe a lot of times.

It's stupid for me to realize all these problems but not have any idea how to correct any of them. I can always see what's happening; I can see what I'm doing or saying but it's always like I'm apart from me when I talk to Sara. I'm riding on emotions when I talk to her. My brain conveniently only gives me flashbacks of my childhood that make me angry and sad and a thousand other things that I always want to direct to Sara.

Maybe I'll never be able to stop that. Maybe I want to continue to blame her for everything that happened to her that she wasn't in control of because some part of me thinks that she could have been. Maybe...I don't know. Maybe I just don't know what to do with facing the reality of my existence.

Sara said before I came to this tournament that I intimidated her, well maybe she intimidates me too. I don't know why I lash out at her but keep my head level with everyone else. I'm a saint to Catherine compared to how I treat Sara. I'm a good person with Jenny and I'm spiteful with Sara.

Jenny is shaking me, her hand on my shoulder, calling my name. I think I've missed something. "What?"

Jenny opens her mouth, but it's not her voice I hear. I guess Catherine beat her to asking the obviously apparent. "Are you okay?"

"I jumped into a pool in the middle of the night to run away from a voice in my head," I reply softly. "I don't think that makes me okay."

"You heard voices in your head?" That's right. Sara still doesn't know the story. I guess now I'm schizophrenic to her. That's probably a step up.

I shake my head. "Not voices just a voice." It wasn't my own so maybe that does make me schizophrenic. "It was Mom's." Laura Sidle for all her shitty glory was the person who raised me. By all definitions she was my mother. "We were talking about sleeping arrangements." Seems like a good time to start off my little story. "I walked into the room and it turned into my room at home. I got thrown back into a time when Mom strapped me to a bed because I tried to run away to bring you back to save me." I'm looking at Sara but I don't feel angry right now. I don't even sound angry. I sound lost. "Mom caught me and said that I could never run away from her and to prove it to me, she strapped me to my own bed for a week. She wanted to make me feel like I would if I was alone on the streets. She gave me trash to eat and dirty water to drink. She even spit on me sometimes so that I'd know people that live on the street are treated like dirt. She successfully broke my will to run away. She probably broke a few other things too."

Sara's just looking at me. The door in her eyes is shut tightly, but I know what's going on in that head of hers. I can tell because I've seen myself in the mirror. I know what the vacancies in a look mean to us. "What are you remembering?" I've not been brave enough to ask her that before. I don't think I ever wanted to know, and I still don't want to know but something inside me is making me ask. It's shouting out that I need to ask.

She looks to Catherine and Jenny but avoids looking at me. She's not comfortable with what I've asked, that's more than obvious. She probably doesn't want to say anything to me with Jenny and Catherine in the room. I don't think she's told Catherine a whole lot, probably just enough for Catherine to know the atmosphere of the Sidle home, but probably not enough to know the details of it.

I just hope that Sara realizes that I'll probably never ask this again. This is her chance for us to be different from here on out. It's her chance to show me that I shouldn't throw all my emotions onto her. It's a chance for her to show me that we both can be human.

My patience is running out along with my ability to sit here without running away. I turn away from her, but Sara gently puts a hand on my face and guides me back to her. "Mom seems to have repeated a lot of her techniques. I tried running away after I was..." I can tell she wants to look away from me but she holds our gaze. "I thought that I could go to a shelter and get some help. I thought it was time I finally stopped taking her crap. I thought it would be best for both of us if I got away. She caught me, probably just like she caught you." It did always seem like she had a sixth sense about things. I was never quite good enough at hiding from her. "I think she was easier on me, since I was pregnant. Dad even stepped in and stopped her from being too..."

"Violent." I finish for her but only because I understand her words better than anyone else can. "Sometimes he could pretend to be a caring parent."

Sara blinks a couple of times. "She could too."

"But it never meant much to me. I never knew when a caress could turn into a slap."

"Sometimes her kindness hurt."

"It always hurt."

"Because she made you care for her."

"She made you want to care for her."

I sit and stare at Sara a moment longer before I realize there are more than the two of us in this room. Our conversation has been heard by two people who... I don't know who they are. I don't know what they mean.

I don't know a lot, and I don't think Sara knows anymore than me. She's turned to Catherine with an uncertain look in her eyes. I don't know what she's looking for but maybe Catherine does. I turn to Jenny uncertain for what I'm looking for, but maybe Jenny knows. In her big brown eyes, I see disbelief, horror, acceptance, and finally love. When I take a chance and look at Catherine I see the exact same thing. It's not directed at me, but it probably easily could be. It's just that she's focusing on Sara now; she's focusing on her heart.

When I look back at Jenny she smiles at me, but it's a forced smile. She doesn't seem to know how to react to all this, but she's not alone in that. I think she's in the same boat as everyone else in this room including me. I wish I could come up with something witty and brilliant to say, but I've got nothing. Talking about the weather even seems a little too obvious.

Who says I need to say anything anyway? I'm not the only person in the room. I'm not one of the adults in the room either. I'm actually the youngest one in here. Jenny is a year and a half older than I am.

I've heard that quietness can be really loud, but I didn't know it could be this loud. I didn't know that in these moments the people in it could feel so exposed. I didn't know that I'd be able to talk to Sara and focus on her so intently that I'd forget there was anyone else around.

So I guess I can sit here in this silence and I can try to figure out what all this means. It's better than trying to figure out what to say to try and make everything back to whatever our normal is. I actually think we just need to find a new normal. The old normal really sucked.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

We won state. We get to go to nationals next. I don't know where they're being held. The team did really good. As a matter of fact, they did great without me playing. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I know that part of me is happy, I get a trophy just like everyone else, but there's that other part of me that kind of wishes they wouldn't have done so well without me. It's a complicated emotion, but what isn't for me these days.

I guess I could look at the silver lining of my cloud and see that at least I don't have to be on crutches anymore. The doctor finally released me and said I only have to use one crutch now, which is good since to the best of my knowledge one of my crutches is still drowning in a pool. The one crutch thing is supposed to be an improvement though. It's all about taking the small steps.

My life is about taking small steps right now. It seems like they're the only steps I'm able to take. All the small steps eventually have to lead up to one giant leap though, right? A bunch of small steps has to be better than like three giant leaps. When my foot heals, I might just have to check that out. How many small steps add up to a giant leap? It's the new big universal question. Who cares about black holes and distant galaxies? It's all about small steps and giant leaps.

A pair of arms encircles my shoulders from behind, startling me a little but not enough for me to fall out of my chair. "Why are you reading the dictionary?" Jenny softly whispers into my ear.

I turn around to face her with a slight smile on my face. "It's amazing what you can learn by reading the dictionary," I say pointing to the word that just happened to catch my eye. "See 'Identity' comes from the Latin 'idem et idem' same and same. Identity just means to be the same. At least it used to."

"Okay," she draws out the word. "So why are you reading the dictionary?"

I close the thick book and push it away from me. "No particular reason."

Jenny pulls away from me and I swing my desk chair around so that I'm fully facing her. "I thought you were supposed to get reacquainted with your family." Jenny, according to her parents, was spending too much time away from the family and was ordered to spend an entire night with them.

"They never told me that I couldn't bring a friend along," she's smiling and I think it's probably because she's trying to charm me into going with her. I haven't spent a lot of time with Jenny's family, which mostly consists of her mother, step-father and a brother who is off failing out of college—or so I'm told.

"Your step-father always gives me the evil eye." I've met him only three times and on each occasion he's asked me what I think about drug problems in the youth of America today. I just tell him that I don't think about it.

"He doesn't know how to treat you. He said he's not comfortable threatening a girl." Jenny takes a hold of my hands and pulls me in the chair over to the bed then takes a seat across from me. "He's still not completely comfortable with the fact that I prefer to date girls."

"He thinks we're dating?" This is news to me, especially since I don't particularly think we're dating. Granted, I don't know what it is we are doing since I haven't really bothered to talk to her about anything since the night I jumped in the pool.

Jenny nods. "They both saw it coming way before I did."

"They saw it coming?" I've only met them three times. I wonder if Sara has seen anything coming. I wonder if Sara knows anything. Maybe I should consider telling her a little more seriously than I have been doing. She might have something insightful to say... or I could just talk to Catherine.

"Yeah," Jenny sighs. "They said something about puppy love."

"What do puppies have to do with anything?"

Jenny tilts her head to the side a little. "I don't know and I didn't want to ask."

"Oh." It was obvious to the team too. They all caught on to something before anything actually happened. Maybe we're being obvious about something. We've never kissed in public. I'm not like groping at her in the locker room or anything. Although, that doesn't seem like that bad of an idea. No wait. That is a bad idea. I should be thinking about something else.

"So get ready so that I'm not late." Jenny gives me a quick kiss on the lips then is walking towards the door. "I'll be waiting for you out in the living room." She closes the door behind her and I carefully get out of my office chair.

I look down at the clothes I'm wearing and figure that by getting ready Jenny meant that I needed to do something with my attire. I guess Adidas isn't good enough for her family. It won't kill me to change into something else especially if I need to impress the parents of a girl that I don't think I'm officially dating.

Poking through my dresser drawers I find a decent pair of khakis and a not too wrinkled baby blue Polo shirt that I don't remember ever buying or owning. I slip the clothes on and look at myself in the mirror. I look like I'm about to go out golfing, and I look preppy. Hopefully Jenny's parents like preppy.

Without a lot of care, I run a brush through my hair and tie it back in a ponytail. Immediately my bangs drop out of the band and I push them behind my ear. With another quick look in the mirror, I see someone that looks okay to go out, and hobble out of my room.

When I get to the living room, I see Jenny and Catherine sitting on the couch and Sara over in the kitchen. "What are you doing here?" I ask Catherine. "Don't you people work anymore?"

They all turn to me and look at me strangely. I look down at my clothes to make sure that I'm not showing anything that shouldn't be shown or have any embarrassing stains or anything. I look fine to me.

"You got out of the Adidas and Nike," Catherine says. "You're wearing khaki."

"Should I not be wearing khaki?" I take another look down at my pants. They don't look that bad. As a matter of fact, I think I look pretty good. That natural tan thing I've got going with my skin makes me look healthy even in the winter time. My skin tone actually makes me wonder what my father looks like. My skin is a couple of shades darker than Sara's. It may seem crazy, because it probably is, but I'd like to see a picture of him. It's not like I want to meet him or anything, but I'd like to see him. I'd like to see how much I look like him.

"The khaki looks fine, Mel" Catherine replies. "I'm just not used to seeing you in anything that isn't connected to working out in some way."

"You look good," Jenny says then takes a self-conscious look at Sara.

"Whatever." I shrug. "It's just a change of clothes, nothing special."

"So where are you going in your nothing special?" Catherine asks with a sly look on her face.

I immediately glance at Sara and see that she seems uninterested in our conversation. She actually looks a little preoccupied. I don't know what with, but it doesn't seem like she's paying a whole lot of attention to what's going on here, kind of in front of her.

As much as I would, in the future, might want to know about what's up with Sara, I'm not into knowing right now. Catherine's probably here to take care of what ever is going on. "I'm having dinner with Jenny's family. It's no big deal."

"You're going out tonight?" This actually grabs Sara's interest? I'm not home all the time. The only time I'm around here these days is when I'm sleeping.

"Yeah," I swing around so that I can get a better view of Sara in the kitchen. "I'm going to have dinner with Jenny's family. It shouldn't take that long."

"Oh." Sara's body sags and she walks over to the kitchen counter and presses her hands against its surface.

"Should I not be going?" I ask uncertainly but only because I know something is definitely off in the atmosphere.

"You should go and have fun." Catherine, I think, says to me but is looking at Sara.

I'm faced with some very obvious choices right now. I can just leave and pretend like I'm really stupid and don't realize that something's going on, or I could stay and ask a few questions. I could try to be more proactive in this interacting with the people you live with thing. Jenny's family or Sara's weirdness; these are my choices.

Damn.

I make my way over to Sara and stand right up next to her. "Is everything okay?"

Sara slowly turns her head to look at me and I see a lie coming from an arm's length away. She's going to tell me that everything is fine and that I should go and have some fun. She's just going to repeat Catherine's words and hope that I leave them both alone. They need me to walk out that door so that they can resolve whatever it is that is going on that I'm not supposed to know about.

The lie is right there, but I don't think it's going to make it out. I don't think she's going to brush me off this time. "I was working a case that may have involved domestic abuse and lost control. I was inappropriate with some co-workers." She gives Catherine a pointed look.

I don't think I'm prepared to deal with this kind of sharing. I may never be prepared to deal with this kind of sharing, but I guess if I say something wrong Catherine could always pick up the pieces and I can leave with Jenny.

"Why did you become a CSI, Sara?" I've never really asked her about work before. I never really cared to ask either. I'm not entirely sure that I care now.

She doesn't answer, but I don't need her to. It doesn't take a genius to figure this one out. "You're a lot more progressed than I am, you know." I put my back against the counter and focus on the refrigerator across from me. "You decided to help people and stop the ones that do the bad stuff. I bet it's a lot like trying to save yourself from Laura Sidle time and time again." I cross my arms in front of me. "I couldn't do that. Facing her is a nightmare, but you can do that. You do it. I think you probably are really good at it, but we have to remember that our past isn't our present." Sara opens her mouth to say something but I hold up my arms to stop her. "Yeah I know this is coming from a girl who jumped into a pool to silence Laura's voice."

A slight grin appears on Sara's face but quickly fades. "It's hard to deal with it sometimes," she says through a sigh.

I bump her with my shoulder. "We do have that in common, although I think I'm a little worse."

"Well with how I acted today, I don't think a lot of people would agree with you."

I want to say that those people don't know me, but now isn't the time to bring that up. It's not possible for me to push her into telling all her work buddies who I actually am. Plus, we're not talking about that right now. "So you apologize and do better next time. We just have to work on not letting the past make us yell at a bunch of people or jump into a pool in the middle of winter."

Sara looks down at the floor. "Then how do I deal with it next time?"

"People always say that we need to separate the now from the then. They say it like it's the easiest thing in the world, but I say we should let the then help us in the now." Hopefully I just made sense.

"What do you mean?"

I guess I didn't. "Well, you've got insight to the victims and the assholes. No one who doesn't know what that's like can understand what happens in the crime scene, at least not like you could."

"That's not the best kind of tradeoff."

I shake my head. "It's not for you. It's not for anyone like us, but it is for the victim. That's why I say since you put yourself through that you're kind of a hero. Not a lot of people get to be heroes these days, at least not like that."

Sara raises her brow and tilts her head to the side a little. "Have you been thinking about this just in case something like this happened?"

"Nope." I cross my arms back in front of me. "I think it's just the truth."

I get another tiny grin out of Sara. "So what do you want to be when you grow up? Do you want to help the victims?"

"I don't know." I shrug. "I don't know if I could be as strong as you are." It's not a compliment really, it's the truth. I don't know how she faces dead bodies and stuff every day. I rather work with non-dead people or maybe no people at all. Maybe I can invent something and become super rich so that I only have to work once. That's the American dream.

"Mel," Sara takes a step closer to me and puts her hand on my shoulder. "I think you'll be great at whatever you do because you're ten thousand times stronger than I am in every way that counts."

I'm not too sure what that means exactly but this moment is turning a little awkward. Honestly, I think there's a little too much going on for me at the moment. "I think I'm dating Jenny." I'm sure there's something else I could have confessed or even just said. The weather is generally universal isn't it? I could have said something about the weather or some sports team. I know things about sports.

Sara gives a small nod of her head. "I know."

"You know?" How could she know? The only person that could have said something was Catherine but Catherine said it wasn't her thing to say. I did believe her at the time.

"I do work as an investigator, Mel." Oh yeah there is that too. "I was starting to wonder if you were going to say anything to me, though."

I shrug. "I was thinking about it."

"When you're ready to talk about it, we can talk."

I can't help but chuckle. "When I figure out what to say then I'll say something."

"Is she um…" Sara quickly runs her hand through her hair, "your first?"

"I've never really been in a real relationship before. Never had anyone be persistent enough to stand by me for so long and take my shit." I can be honest about that. A lot of people think I'm a pretty face, but when they have to deal with me up close they tend to fade back into the background.

"You know I'm in my first real relationship too. It can be scary."

Is she offering advice or just sharing information? She can't be trying to talk about this now, and wasn't I supposed to be going to dinner with Jenny.

I take a quick glance over my shoulder and see no one. Jenny and Catherine have fled the room. I wonder where they went and I wonder why I didn't notice them leave.

"They're in your room," Sara helpfully supplies. "I think they wanted to give us space."

"I knew that." I so didn't know that, but I can pretend that I did so that I don't lose any face.

"Of course you did." Sara doesn't buy it, but that's cool. I didn't expect her to.

"So you're in your first too, huh?" I might as well bring the conversation back on whatever target we might have been aiming at. "I guess I am the more progressed one."

"Or maybe you found someone who wanted to stick by you sooner than I did."

"Or maybe I allowed them to stick by me." I really don't think I did a whole lot to get Jenny to stay onboard. She was just kind of always there, and I never felt like asking her to go away. I still don't feel like asking her to ever go away and that's a scary thought. As a matter of fact, that's really scary.

Sara shrugs. "Maybe you're right, but I wouldn't want anyone else."

"I wouldn't want anyone else for you." I don't know where that came from either, but I guess I mean it. Catherine is a good person. She makes me feel safe. I don't feel safe a lot. "Which is why you should go have that talk that she was going to force you to have and why I should get going to that dinner thing."

I turn to walk away but Sara grabs my crutch arm. "Thanks, Mel."

"For what?" I just told her what I think.

"It's awful but having someone around that understands this means something."

That is awful. It's kind of horrible actually that the only true bond I have with my mother is our mutual abuse. I don't even know when her birthday is, we never celebrated it at home, but we share the experience of being tied to a bed for trying to run away by a parent.

"What are you thinking about?" I hear Sara ask through my haze of thought.

"Our abuse is the only thing we share."

"That's not true," Sara looks pointedly at my closed bedroom door. "We share more than we probably know."

I take a deep breath and release it slowly. "Maybe we do," I say more to myself than to her. "So do we end this moment with a hug or something?"

"We can if you want."

So I hug her. I'm taller than her. She's got all the womanly curves and everything, but I'm a little bigger. Yet, I feel really small in her arms. I'm not a small girl. "I need to go," I push away from her and give her a weak smile then make my way to my bedroom door.

I knock on the door but don't wait for a response before I open it. When I enter, I see Catherine and Jenny sitting on my bed reading the dictionary. Jenny looks up to me and asks, "Do you know what the definition of 'alike' is?"

"It means to be similar but not exactly the same." I answer knowing she has a point further down the line of this conversation.

Jenny shakes her head. "No, that's not quite true." She puts her finger on the opened dictionary. "It means: Melinda and Sara Sidle."

I just shake my head. "Are you ready to go?"

Jenny jumps from the bed. "Whenever you are."

I look behind me at Sara who has just now managed to gather her courage to follow me. "Now's good." There's no need for me to stick around for the conversation she's going to have with Catherine. That's between them.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty One**

I walk into Jenny's house expecting her step-father to be standing right in the foyer puffing up his chest and giving me the evil eye, but he isn't. We're not greeted by any of her family members. I hear them off in the distance talking about politics, I think. There's no reason for me to be intimidated by that, unless they ask me about politics. They may not like what I have to say then.

"You look nervous," Jenny takes my jacket and hangs it up on a peg near the door. "My family isn't something that should make you nervous."

I think it's the exact thing that should make me nervous. Families can be weird and crazy. A good example of that would be my family. I would never have introduced Jenny to Laura Sidle. I also wouldn't have ever told my grandmother that I was into dating girls. That didn't seem like the thing to do, since she did decide to kick Sara out of the house because of it.

Jenny's parents have to be better than that. Everybody's parents have to be better than that. They at least have decided to let me come over for dinner knowing our situation. "Your parents do know that I'm coming, right?" I probably should have asked that before.

"Of course they know," Jenny puts her hands on my waist. "I wouldn't do something like that to you."

That's what she says now, but what happens later when she decides that lying to be about something is just easier than telling me it outright? What happens when she finally figures out that being around me is a lot more work than she needs to undertake right now?

"We were starting to wonder if the two of you were going to make it before dinner was burnt," Jenny's mother says as she walks past the front door and notices Jenny and I lingering there.

Immediately I put some distance between Jenny and I. There's no reason for her mother to think that we were making out this entire time. Then again, maybe her thinking that would be better than actually knowing what kept us. "I'm sorry about that, ma'am." I was taught manners. I'm trying to impress the parentals. "It's my fault that we're late. I had to settle a few things with my mother before we left. She always wants to make sure I'm safe." That wasn't a lie, I don't think.

"Oh well, I completely understand that. It would be wonderful if Jenny could take a lesson from you and spend a little more time talking with her mother."

I shouldn't even try to involve myself in that dispute. I especially shouldn't say anything since I know that the reason Jenny isn't around here so much is because she's around me so much. She's busy trying to pull my soul out of the dirt. That's a full time job and I'm not willing to give that time up just yet. It's selfish, of course, but I feel like being selfish.

"Mom," Jenny closes the distance between us that I have created, "I spend plenty of time at home. It's not my fault that you're working when I'm here."

"Jenny," Oh. The 'mom' voice is being used now. Maybe I should seek out Jenny's father. He can ask me those awkward questions. "You know you're not being fair. I have to work, you know that."

"Sara works a lot too," I don't know what I expect from saying that. It doesn't seem like I'm taking Jenny's side with that one and I think I need to take her side. "So I don't get to spend a lot of time with her." That's better, or judging from the look on Jenny's mother's face maybe it isn't so much better.

"Well," Jenny's mother says uncomfortably. "That's unfortunate. I'm sure I don't work as much as Sara does. My job isn't as nearly as demanding."

"What is it that you do Ms…" Now what's her stepfather's last name again? "Swanson?"

"I'm a real estate agent, dear." I must have gotten the name right then. Score one for the girl who hasn't gotten four feet from the front door yet.

"That's very interesting," I don't give a flip about real estate. Houses are houses and buildings are buildings. "Do you do most of your work in Las Vegas?"

I catch Jenny giving me a sly look, so she knows she owes me a thank you later. Who knew I could be so good at deflecting the focus on someone else to bring it on me. I'm usually the one wanting the attention to be going in a different direction.

"Well, I travel all around the state. Nevada is becoming one of the places to live these days." She has to know that I'm really not interested in this. "If you and Sara are interested in buying a home, I could recommend some very nice ones. We have quite a few on the market that would, I'm sure, suit your specific needs perfectly." Do I have special needs? "After dinner I can show you some pictures of the available houses."

Smiling about this actually hurts me. "That sounds great." Maybe I'll choke while eating.

"So is dinner ready?" Jenny finally speaks up.

"Yes," Ms. Swanson turns her attention to her daughter. "Your father was just setting the table."

"He's not my father," Jenny sounds irritated. "He's your husband."

"Tell me, Melinda," I don't like the sound of that. "Do you have as much of a problem with Sara's girlfriend as Jenny has with her stepfather?"

I look at Jenny knowing that I shouldn't answer this question. It probably would fan Ms. Swanson's fire when she hears I get along with Catherine a lot more than I get along with Sara. "Mom, that's not a fair question. Catherine isn't a thing like Damon. She's not an ass."

"Jenny, we've talked about you calling Damon names." It's kind of funny and all, but I didn't know that Jenny had such a problem with her stepfather. She seems okay with him most of the time. Maybe this is something I should ask her about later after I'm subjected to looking through pictures of houses that are for sale.

"I think we should wash our hands before we eat," I grab Jenny's hand and as best as I'm able lead her to where I remember the bathroom is. I push Jenny into the small half bath and shut the door behind us.

"So…" I lean against the closed door and look at Jenny hoping she'll give me an explanation without me having to ask for one.

"He cheated on my mom," She softly admits. "I just found out the other day. They didn't want to tell me, but I overheard them talking about it. They're going into counseling or something."

"Hey," I reach out to her and pull her to me. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Jenny gives me this look that I know must mean she didn't have the slightest opportunity to tell me anything since ninety-nine percent of the time we're focused on everything that's happening to me. It makes me feel kind of bad.

"It's supposed to be friends first, right?" I ask carefully.

Jenny gives me a strange look but nods her head. "Then that means we get to talk about you too. My stuff isn't going away anytime soon, so we can't push everything that happens to you away until it does."

She starts picking at a piece of string hanging from my shirt sleeve. "I just didn't want to talk about it yet and didn't want to give you more stuff to deal with."

"I know most of the time I'm a completely self-absorbed ass, but I think I may sort of really like you and kind of care about what happens to you too." That was really hard to get through and completely ineloquent. "So you kind of have to tell me these things so that I'm not the one always dumping stuff on you, because you're supposed to dump stuff on me too." I'm not sounding any better so I'm just going to stop talking, but at least Jenny's smiling now.

"If I ask you to beat him up for me, would you do it?" Maybe my words weren't as bad as they sounded in my head, although I'm pretty sure that they were.

"With or without the crutch?"

That gets me a short laugh and that's good enough for me. "So are you okay? I mean, I know that you're not okay but are you okay in a way that means we can walk out of this bathroom and cease the hostilities or do you really want me to beat him up?" When did I get so wordy?

Jenny sighs. "I do kind of want you to beat him up for real, but I think I can make it through dinner."

"Good." There's a knock on the door, which makes me jump away from it and straight into Jenny. We fall to the floor with me landing right on top of her, and that's when the door opens.

"Girls," Mr. Swanson's voice immediately fades once I imagine he gets a good look at us on the floor. "What are you doing?"

I roll off of Jenny and turn around to face the man. I can't read his expression, but I am hoping that he doesn't have a gun or anything. I wouldn't want to get shot at.

"She was standing against the door when you opened it," Jenny replies icily. "If you had waited for a response you wouldn't have almost given her a concussion."

"Oh." A strained smile appears on Mr. Swanson's face. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to tell you both that dinner is served. Come out whenever you both are ready." He closes the door again and actually looks a little hurt. He cares for Jenny. I do know that.

Jenny gets up off the floor and offers her hand to me. I take it and she helps pull me up. I want to tell her something, but I don't have the words to say it. Maybe when she's not so angry anymore I can risk telling her that she has a parent that cares for her and that she shouldn't crap on that. If Catherine cheated on Sara or vice versa I'm sure I'd be majorly pissed, but I'd like to think that some part of me would recognize that they still care for me. Who knows what I'd really do. Maybe I'd just lose all my faith in love. They are the only good example that I've got.

So instead of trying to offer Jenny some personal insight, I give her a quick kiss on the lips. It probably says more to her than my words could anyway.

Once I pull away from her I take a look around to see what has become of my single crutch, it's the only one I've got now. It's still resting against the doorframe. Go figure that it would remain untouched. I settle it under my arm and let Jenny lead the way out of the bathroom and when we reach the dining room, I realize that we never did end up washing our hands, but I guess that doesn't matter so much right now.

Instead of the Swanson's setting up the table with two people at the head, they have us sitting across from each other. Once we sit down the tension in the room is palpable. This might even rival some of the tension I have going on with Sara at times. It's possible that I just attract this kind of tension. I am the flame that the moth is drawn to. Well, at least I'm not the moth.

"This looks really good," I'm not even sure what this food is exactly, but it does look a little edible.

"Thank you, Melinda." Ms. Swanson smiles graciously as she moves the food on her plate around. So far, no one has taken a bite of anything. Personally, I'd like to see someone try to eat it so that I know it's safe.

Jenny doesn't look like she's particularly hungry at the moment and neither do either of the Swansons. I actually am hungry but I rather not eat foreign objects alone. What if Ms. Swanson is one of those passive-aggressive types that might poison the food to get back at her husband? I don't know these people well enough to say that isn't a possibility.

Finally, the food on Ms. Swanson's fork makes it into her mouth. It doesn't seem like she's enjoying the food, though. It actually looks like she's performing rote movements.

"So girls," Mr. Swanson tears a piece off of his dinner roll but doesn't put it in his mouth, "how is school coming along?"

Jenny doesn't look like she's going to answer and I don't care to share inane information with her stepfather. He doesn't really care about my schooling. "We're not in the same grade level," I tell him hoping that will be a good enough answer for him.

"You're not?" His voice is flat and I'm not entirely sure he's asked a question, but I'm just assuming that it is. "I could have sworn that you are." Now he just seems like he's talking to himself. "So are you graduating this year then?" Now he's actually looking at me.

"No." I shake my head. "I'm not technically a sophomore but that's the level I'm at. I'll be graduating next year."

"You're graduating a year early?" This peaks Ms. Swanson's interest. "I graduated a year early from school."

"I could have graduated this year, but I didn't want to go to college when I was sixteen. I'd like to play high school ball a little longer." Like Mr. Swanson I pick up my dinner roll and tear off a piece, but I do put it in my mouth and chew and swallow. I haven't heard of poisoned bread.

"You must be as an exceptional student as you are a basketball player," Ms. Swanson turns her attention to her daughter. "I wish Jenny had the same motivation as you do. She's a lot smarter than her grades reflect."

"Marianna, Jenny does fine in school." Mr. Swanson doesn't look at his wife when he says this. He's looking at Jenny.

I tear another piece of my roll off and stick it in my mouth.

"I don't need you defending me, Damon." Jenny snaps.

Mr. Swanson takes a deep breath and releases it through a long tortured sigh. "I know that, Jenny," he says carefully.

That's when my cell phone rings. "Excuse me," I smile and reach into my pocket and pull my flip-phone out. "Hello?" I turn away from the table and somehow manage to have my back turned to everyone.

"Mel, it's Sara." My savior's voice says from across the line. "I just wanted to call and tell you that it's safe to come home now."

"You need me home now?" I say loud enough so that everyone at the table can hear me. "I'm eating dinner with Jenny's family."

"I didn't say that," Sara responds confused.

"You're going back to work and need me to watch Lindsey?" Once again I'm loud enough so that everyone can hear me.

"Catherine is picking Lindsey up along with dinner. We're not going back to work tonight." Sara explains still completely lost as to what's going on.

"I'm on my way." I hang up the phone before Sara can reply and turn back to the three pairs of eyes that are looking at me rather intently.

"That was Sara," I make the obvious general announcement. "She needs me to come home to watch Lindsey so that she and Catherine can go back to work. I'm terribly sorry I have to leave so soon." I'm already up out of my chair. "Jenny you're going to have to drive me since you brought me here." Jenny's already up too.

We say a quick good-bye to her parents then are quickly out the door and in Jenny's car on our way back to Sara's and my apartment before Jenny questions me about the phone call I received. "So does Sara really need you to watch Lindsey?"

"No," I say through a sigh. "She called me to say that everything had been worked out and it was okay for me to go back home."

"So you lied to my parents?" I don't know if Jenny is happy or angry about this. I know that I'm happy.

"I did and I'm sorry." Apologizing is always good. "It's not a reflection of what I think about them, it's just that they were acting weird and it didn't seem like anyone wanted to be in that room but the only reason why they were staying was because this unseen force was keeping them seated and I took a guess that it was out of politeness for the guest and the guest wasn't happy bout it." Long winded explanations can be good too.

"I understand," Jenny says softly. "I wanted to run away from it just like everyone else. I'm glad Sara called you when she did and I'm sorry you had to sit through that."

I reach over and put my hand on Jenny's thigh. "Don't apologize. You've gone through way worse with me, maybe with a little less nagging but certainly with a lot more profanity, yelling, and borderline violence."

Jenny cracks a tiny smile. "Yeah, I guess you do owe me a lot more than just one dinner."

It doesn't take long before we're back in my apartment where there's Chinese take-out on the table and some movie playing on the television. This place seems like a calm ocean breeze compared to the freezing ice storm we just came from.

Jenny and I head immediately towards the food. "Sara called me and said to bring enough for four and you," Catherine says pointing to the food. "I can only hope I got enough."

"Very funny," I manage to reply from around a mouthful of egg roll as I stack my plate with food.

When my plate can't hold anymore I take a seat between Sara and Lindsey on the couch. "So what are we watching?"

"Raise Your Voice" Lindsey responds.

"Is that the one with Jessica Simpson?" I ask right before I put a forkful of vegetable fried rice in my mouth.

"It's Hilary Duff," Lindsey answers sounding somewhat offended by my question.

I shrug. "Hilary Duff, Jessica Simpson they're both talent challenged blondes."

"Hey!" How can Lindsey be offended by that? It's not like I released classified information or anything.

"Mel," Sara warns but she is smiling. I know she agrees with me.

"I'm sure this movie is brilliant, though." I say half-heartedly. "There's nothing like raising one's voice."

"Stop picking on your sister," Jenny tells me then takes a seat on the floor against my legs, but well enough away from my injured foot.

"I can pick on whoever I want to," I give Jenny a gentle little shove with my good foot.

"Shh." Somehow Lindsey got the remote and is now turning up the television.

I give her a look but keep my silence. Eating is more important at the moment anyway.

"So did you eat anything over at Jenny's?" Sara leans over and asks me quietly.

"Two pieces of a dinner roll." I answer just as quietly. "So it's good you called Catherine to get more food."

"You want to talk about what was happening?"

I take a quick look at Jenny who seems to actually be involved in the movie. "Maybe later."

"Whenever you want," Sara turns her attention back to the screen. Catherine walks behind us and runs a warm hand across my shoulders then takes a seat in the only vacant chair in the room with her plate of food.

So, I'm thinking that maybe my life has really sucked up until I moved in with Sara. I haven't had the best family life, really, but l can see what I have now. Catherine and Sara do love each other. I know that. They have problems, obviously, but at least they work it out. I'm sure Jenny's had a really great life and a lot better childhood, but I've gotta say that in the end, I think I got a good deal when it came to the final pair of parents I ended up with. We've still got a lot of stuff to work out, but at this moment I can say that I'm happy to be here.

Tomorrow that could change. I never know how I'm going to feel in the tomorrows, but I guess that means I have to hold onto today. So tomorrow if I get angry and maniac worthy, I can remember this moment and bad movies and maybe I can bring myself back from the anger. Now I have something to remember that isn't about abuse so maybe this forming new memories thing might actually work.

* * *

**Author's Note: **If anyone was wondering, no I am not a incredibly fast writer. _Mad World_ is completely written. The reason it isn't being posted all at once is because I'm editing it. Also, thank you all once again for your comments. To those who didn't want to give this story a chance at first, well thanks for changing your minds. 


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-two**

It was bound to happen; I do know that. I've got a lot of buttons that someone can push and it was inevitable that someone would try and push most of them. Idiots run around all over the planet and chances were I was going to run into one of them.

"Are you her legal guardian, Ms. Willows?" The nice police officer asks Catherine who really don't look that happy at the moment.

"I'm as good as you're gonna get," she answers shortly. "Her mother is in court testifying."

The officer looks at Catherine for a moment but decides that it's okay to speak to her, I guess, because he starts speaking to her. "So are you aware as to what happened with Melinda?"

"I was only told that she was arrested for assault," she doesn't even bother to look at me and now doesn't seem like a good time to proclaim my innocence even though I am completely innocent. That can be proven in a court of law.

"We've dropped those charges, ma'am." That's the first I've heard of it. Shouldn't they feel free to tell me these things? I am the one who was arrested, wrongfully. "We have witnesses saying that Melinda actually stopped the young man from assaulting another young woman." He turns to me. "Even though she did use excessive force. The young man is in the hospital with a concussion and a broken cheek bone."

"He assaulted someone?" Catherine asks.

"Yes ma'am. He slapped his girlfriend and I do believe that Ms. Sidle here took objection to it. I'd say she took severe objection to it." I can tell he's trying to hold back a smile, Catherine doesn't bother. She doesn't seem so angry now.

There's some paperwork that needs to be signed before I can leave, but I'm not spending any time in a jail cell or facing charges of any sort. That means that the only people I have to face are Sara and Catherine and since hospital records are confidential they really don't ever need to know that the idiot ended up with more than a concussion and broken cheekbone.

"How's your hand?" Catherine stops me in front of her car and grabs my left hand.

I shrug. "It hurts."

"We need to take you to the hospital and get it x-rayed."

"I don't think it's broken," I tell her pulling my hand back.

She puts her hands on her hips. "Then wiggle your fingers and make a fist."

I look her directly in the eye and hold up my hand. I start to wiggle my fingers but cry out in pain as soon as any of them move. Maybe my hand is broken, but what does that really mean now? My foot prohibits me from playing in nationals. Writing might be a little awkward in the beginning, but I'm sure I'll get around that.

"We're going to the hospital." She walks to the passenger side door and opens it for me.

I could be stubborn and refuse, but my hand really does kind of hurt. I get into the car but I make sure to not look happy about it. If anything, I certainly can't look happy about it or even content to be actually getting away from the police station, because if I do then Catherine might get the stupid idea that I'm okay with her forcing me to get my hand examined by a professional. 

When we get to the hospital I get seen rather quickly and am told within an hour that I did break a couple of bones in my hand. I'll need a cast and some pain pills.

It isn't until we're back at Catherine's house that she asks me what happened and almost as a side-note asks why Jenny wasn't around at the time.

"So what happened was, I was walking down the hallway at school and I heard Mr. Idiot of the Day yelling at this girl named Kelly. She's in my physics class." I don't really know her that well. "So I'm walking and then I hear the sound of a slap and I know it was a slap because… I'm very familiar with the sound. Then I make my way over there and see him raising a hand to her again. So, I tackle him to the ground and start wailing on him."

"And you broke your hand." Catherine nods towards my neon green cast.

I hold it up. "And don't even remember doing it."

"Is that scary for you at all?"

Is it? "I don't think so. I didn't kill him."

"When did you stop hitting him?" Catherine leans forward in her seat and reaches out to take my incased hand. "Did someone have to pull you off?"

"Yes." But should that really matter? I did a good thing. I stopped the violence and all. Kelly didn't get slapped again by someone who was bigger and stronger than her.

"You don't see a problem with that?"

I think Catherine is trying to make some kind of a point. "Not really."

"Okay." Catherine nods releases my hand and clasps her hands together. "Who did you know that hit people without stopping and probably got so angry that they didn't really remember even doing it?"

"Oh." I get this. "I'm nothing like her."

"You broke your hand and don't remember doing it," she responds gently. "You had to be pulled off of the guy so that you wouldn't kill him and that's not okay."

"I did a good thing," I snap as I jump out of my chair. "It's not like I would beat on some guy who didn't do anything."

"Unless he made you angry?" she looks so calm. She's accusing me of being like Laura and she looks so fucking calm.

"He's the one like Laura," I'm fighting to control the volume of my voice. "I wasn't beating on anyone for no good reason."

"If you hadn't been pulled off him you could have killed him." She says again but slower like I couldn't understand her the first time. "That's not okay."

"I'm nothing like Laura. Do you understand that?" My uninjured hand starts shaking at my side. I force it not to turn into a fist.

Catherine narrows her eyes and takes a quick look over my body. "You should go and try to take a nap." She gets up from her chair and takes a few steps away from me. "We can talk later."

"I'm nothing like her," I repeat then walk away from her knowing that running away at this moment is best for the both of us. I go to the room that is supposed to be mine when Sara and I move in. There's not anything in here yet except a bed, but that's all I need.

I lie down and quickly fall asleep. I'm woken up by the feel of eyes looking at me and the sound of a door closing softly. My sleep wasn't really that deep. When I decide to open my eyes, I don't see anyone at the door but I do soon hear Sara's voice downstairs.

I can't hear her clearly so I crack open the door and lean against the wall. She doesn't need to know that I've woken up because I bet she's talking about me. "She's sleeping." Sara sounds worn out. "Do you want to tell me exactly what happened?"

Catherine tells my story, amazingly close enough to my actual words but she does add something that I didn't, "She lost control, Sara, she needs help with her anger."

"She is getting help," Sara says a little defensively. "Don't you think it's normal for her to see something like that and go off?"

"No." Catherine replies flatly. "It's one thing for her to stop the guy and it's another having to be pulled off of him. Don't you see the problem with that?" Catherine's really focused on that one little detail.

"Of course I see the problem," Sara snaps, "and I will talk to her about it."

"I already tried and failed." Catherine sounds frustrated.

"What did you say to her?" Sara asks carefully.

"I just tried to point out to her that her anger is a lot like Laura's."

"You didn't?" Sara's voice drops.

"Sara, it's the truth. We both know it."

"No we don't." Sara enunciates perfectly. "I would never think that Melinda is anything like Laura."

"Honey, I don't think she's like Laura I just think that her anger is." I don't see the difference.

"I don't see the difference." Sara replies and rightly so I must add.

"She almost beat a seventeen year old boy to death, Sara." Is that Catherine's only argument? I really think she's over-exaggerating here. I didn't almost kill him. He was still breathing the last I got a chance to check.

Sara says something but too softly for me to understand.

"What do you mean you're not too sure you wouldn't have done the same?" Catherine asks.

"I'm not." Sara quickly replies. "If I had a chance to get my hand on anyone like Laura, like that seventeen year old boy, someone just might need to pull me off too."

"You face people like that all the time, Sara. You've never attacked anyone."

"But that's because I have rules I have to follow. If I was inappropriate I could lose my job. I have the entire team reminding me of that. What does Mel have to stop her?"

"How about us telling her that it's wrong?" Catherine asks exasperated.

"When you come from our history, it doesn't seem so wrong." Sara replies lowly. "I can't tell her that it's wrong."

"Sara, we both know I have a good amount of my own history. Eddie wasn't a prize and neither was getting up in front of assholes with my clothes off, and as much as I think those bastards deserve to pay for every last thing they've done we can't go out and try to kill them all. It's wrong."

Catherine was a stripper? Did I already know this? I don't think I knew this. I'm not too sure that I want to know this. It puts weird images in my brain.

"Maybe you're just a better person than I am," Sara replies, I think finally defeated.

"No I'm not." Catherine quickly responds. "Not even close." There's a pause then Catherine starts speaking again. "There's a distinct line between thinking you would actually do something and doing it. You don't attack every suspect because you know it's wrong, not because you think you could get fired. If that really was the reason it wouldn't be enough to hold you back."

"You have a lot more faith in me than I do." I think I've just officially lost the only person on my side.

"Maybe I just know you better." Catherine doesn't sound as adamant anymore.

"So what do I say to her?" By her I'm sure that she means me. That's what this conversation is about. They need to figure out how to deal with me, like I'm one of their stupid suspects.

"Well," Catherine blows out a breath of air, "don't call her Laura."

"I would never do that," Sara replies sternly. "I'm not too happy that you did either."

"Could have been the wrong thing to do," Catherine casually admits. "It certainly mad her angry fast. She even looked like she wanted to hit me."

I didn't want to hit her. I was angry and my mind probably wasn't working at its best, but I wouldn't hit her. We went through that before. It wasn't a pleasant experience for me. It wasn't a pleasant experience for anyone.

"She probably got angry, but I don't think she would have hurt you." Sara's at least back to defending me. But it's probably time that I started defending myself a little. I can't have Sara taking all my knocks from Catherine. I am the one that did the deed.

"You're probably right," Catherine says as I make my way slowly down the stairs. "But do either of us know that for sure."

"Can any of us be sure about anything?" I ask from the stairway. "Can you absolutely be sure that you will never hit me?"

"How long have you been listening?" Catherine asks in lieu of answering my question, although it really didn't need to be answered. It was mostly rhetorical.

"Long enough to be intentionally eavesdropping." Maybe I was listening even a little longer than that.

Sara walks over to me and gently takes hold of my injured hand. "How's your hand doing?"

"It hurts but not as much as it did before. The pain is kind of dulling." I answer loud enough for Catherine to hear me. I'm angry that she even bothered to compare me to Laura, but I'm going to have to get past that. I see what she was trying to get at. She was doing that tough love kind of thing.

"And how are you doing?" Sara asks still holding onto my hand.

How am I doing? Well I guess in Catherine's words, "I almost beat a seventeen year old boy to death." And maybe there is something wrong with that. My legs buckle. "But I'm not like her." Sara catches me. "I can't be like her."

Sara guides us to the floor. "You're not, okay?" She almost sounds convincing. Didn't think I'd ever need convincing. "You never will be."

I think it's a lot like I said before. We all are like our abusers but sometimes we just choose differently. This time, I didn't choose to stop. I was dumb enough, naïve enough, weak enough, conceited enough to think I was stronger than that. I thought I would always be stronger than Laura and even stronger than Sara. I believed that I was better, but it turns out I'm almost exactly the same. I don't know of anything else that could scare me more.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-three**

What happened before, me hitting that guy, it seems like a displaced event in my active mind. I can't figure out where it fits in. I see myself doing everything I did. I'm watching from a third-person angle and it doesn't fit. I can't make it fit unless I admit that maybe I'm not as okay as I thought I was getting.

I'm talking to Sara. We actually talk these days in short bursts of courage that don't last longer than an hour tops. Catherine and I get along fine. Lindsey's like a little sister, I guess. Jenny is someone I'm still not sure about. I can't figure her out. I can't understand why she's not repulsed by who I am.

It's only been three month's since my 'original' parents died. Three months isn't a lot of time, I don't think. My life has completely changed in that time and maybe I thought I was changing with it.

Sometimes I think people have this idea of what they'll never do or could never do. They say they're not that type of person. Nothing could drive them to that one thing. I thought I could say that to myself too, until I realized what I'm capable of.

How many people can honestly say they could get angry enough that they would kill someone?

I can. I can say a lot of things about myself that are more than frightening. It's not like I could just run away from Laura Sidle and say that all I have left are the memories and the physical scars.

I want to understand who I am. My father was a rapist. Is that kind of violence hereditary? Does it become hereditary when a person is raised in the kind of home I was?

My life has taken a turn for the better, but I haven't. There's too much inside of me that I don't have a hold of yet. There's a monster inside this body. It lives in this vessel quietly and undisturbed for the most part, but it exists.

Jenny came over as soon as she heard the news that I was in a hallway brawl. We didn't talk much, but she did fall asleep in my bed and I'm debating whether or not I should wake her up and tell her to leave.

I can't even bring myself to lie in the bed beside her. I'm sitting in a chair staring at the bed watching the rise and fall of her chest. She's a good person. She doesn't have a monster inside, but she has invited one into her life. I don't think she knows what she's done.

I can't stay here. It doesn't feel right for me to stay here like this. I can't sit here and think anymore. I've got to get up and do something.

It's only ten o'clock right now. Catherine never went into work and neither did Sara. They're downstairs on call for me when I need them. I don't want to face them either.

As quietly as possible I get out of my chair and out of the room. I shut the door firmly behind me and slowly make my way downstairs. Sara and Catherine are on the couch watching television and I have no idea where Lindsey went.

Making sure that they don't hear me, I make my way to Sara's jacket where her car keys are commonly stored. It's probably going to get me in a lot of trouble taking her car and all, but it is possible that they'll never realize that I'm gone.

It is possible to drive with a bad left foot and a left hand in a cast. It's not the easiest thing I've ever done, but it's not impossible. Plus, the trip I'm taking isn't that far from Catherine's house. I could have walked, but that would be something I think about after I take the car.

Maybe I just want to make my life incredibly difficult these days. Either way, I'm at the hospital and making my way through the hallways in no time. I almost get caught a couple of times by the night staff but they've just assumed that I'm a patient. I guess walking with a crutch and having a cast helps with them thinking that.

I overheard the police officer who gave the orders to guard the guy's room say which room Erik was in. There's no police officer here at the moment, but I guess Erik isn't so much of a flight risk after all or maybe the Las Vegas P.D. is too busy to worry about a guy who got his ass kicked by a girl.

When I walk into the room, I can see that his eyes are open but I stay out of his line of sight. I don't want him to see me just yet. He doesn't look so good. They've got his head all bandaged up and his eyes still look rather puffy.

I did all that to him.

There's a small light in the room illuminating his body and shadowing mine. That's a sign if I've ever seen one, and I often choose not to see any of them.

I step into the light. When he sees me his eyes widen, as much as they can and he starts moving his jaw but they have it wired shut. He looks scared of me. He probably thinks I came after him to finish the 'job'. That would be something, wouldn't it? Melinda Sidle, handing out vigilante justice to bruised beat up teenagers in hospital beds. I've never thought of a better headline.

"Don't panic, Erik." I reach my good hand out for him but pull it back. He probably doesn't want me anywhere near him. I really shouldn't be touching him. That might be something that would keep me arrested if the police decided to come after me again.

"I'm not going to, like, smother you with a pillow or anything." His breathing calms down a little but he still doesn't look comfortable.

"I wanted to apologize." Neither of us really saw this one coming. "I'm not a bit sorry for stopping you from pounding on Kelly, let's just be straight on that." He looks confused. Well… he can join the club. "What you did was wrong and me stopping you was a good thing. I shouldn't have beat you up like that, though."

There's a chair conveniently placed behind me. I pull it closer and take a seat. "So I'm thinking that you probably had someone who hurt you like you were hurting Kelly. All the professionals say that kids learn stuff like that from their parents, boys get it from their dads and all that psycho-crap."

He tries to mouth something, but I don't think it was going to be a good word. "I'm not saying any of this to be like the psychologists or the social workers or the after school specials." His jaw stops movement. "I'm saying this because I had a Mom who would beat the shit out of me when I did something she didn't like. She did to me pretty much what I did to you and she always thought she had a good reason for it."

He's just looking at me now. "You were breaking Kelly like whoever was able to break you and that really sucks, not just for the two of you but for me too since I'm the one that stopped you. So, I am sorry that I hurt you like I did and I'm going to offer you something that you probably won't ever think about ever taking me up on, but the offers genuine." I run my good hand through my hair and let out a puff of air. "I'm going to offer you someone to talk to instead of someone to hit. I understand that anger you've got and I think since I've got like ten thousand second chances in the last couple of months, you deserve at least one. I don't want to see you hanging around Kelly or anything, but I'll be there for you, Erik, if you need someone." I get up from the chair and offer him my right hand.

He looks at me full of skepticism but he must see something in my eyes because he reaches out his hand and takes a hold of mine, "Stay." He says through gritted teeth. "Scared."

I can't stay here. I'm probably in enough trouble as it is. Jenny's probably woken up and alerted everyone that I'm no longer around. They've probably called the police and everyone else who might know where I am. There is no way I can stay here with him. He can handle one scared night in a hospital. He probably won't even have to go to jail next.

"I'll stay until you fall asleep." I squeeze his hand then release it and retake my seat. He looks thankful enough.

I try to relax in the silence, but this is weird. More thought should have definitely gone into this plan of mine. I could have made the trip in daylight with the accompaniment of my legal guardian. Then everyone would have known where I was and there would be no problem with me taking a car without permission.

"Talk." Erik's voice throws me off my internal monologue.

"Talk?" What should I talk about? "I've said a lot of things already." But he's not quite able to talk now is he? "I'll do my best."

It's crazy how when I'm supposed to talk, I can't think of anything to say. "So I've got this girl I'm kinda into." He doesn't seem surprised by the admission. "I'm not real sure what I'm doing though. You're probably not the best person to go to for relationship advice or anything, but I can't go to Sara either. It doesn't feel right talking to her about it yet and I can't talk to Catherine either. I have this picture in my head of Catherine trying to give a Sex-Ed talk or something." He's still paying rapt attention. Who knew my life was so interesting? "Neither of them knows a lot about my past. See, they probably think I'm more like Sara than I really am. I mean, she has this pure good person aura surrounding her that I don't think I inherited. Back home, I wasn't exactly chaste. I found an outlet to my anger and it wasn't hittin' people."

He's still fully involved. I thought they would have given him enough painkillers to knock him out cold. "I couldn't start off that way here because Sara might have kicked me out. I had to be upstanding. Jenny doesn't know any of this either, and I'm giving you perfect ammo if you ever decide to fuck with my life when you get out of here."

He shakes his head. "Won't." I can tell he wants to say more, but he can't. Every word looks like another kind of torture.

"I guess I'm going to have to take your word on that." I've got to trust the guy I just beat up. There's an odd kind of liberation in that. "So as I was saying, I was away as often as I could be for basketball. It was the only way that my adopted mother would let me leave the house. She did let me have that one thing, which I never quite understood. But at the tournaments, there were plenty of other girls there willing to stay with me. I still owe a lot of them a phone call." It's really nothing to laugh at, but it is funny because no one around here but Erik knows about this now. "I'll certainly end up running into a few of them if I continue to play basketball. That'll be awkward with Jenny and all."

I continue talking, but I lose track of what I'm talking about. I continue until I notice that those painkillers are doing their job and Erik is fast asleep. I take a look at my watch and am surprised to see that it's past midnight. When I get back to Catherine's I'm going to be more than dead.

Trying to make matters a little less bad, I drive back to Catherine's as fast as I can. Before I pull up the driveway I turn off the lights and ease into the spot Sara's car was before I took it. I would have turned off the engine too, but there is no way I could push the car back into the driveway. I can only hope that everyone is asleep and never bothered to notice my absence.

As soon as I approach the front door I get a clear view of Sara sitting patiently on the patio. The house is dark behind her. "I was starting to get worried."

Fate seems like something I'm fated submit to at the moment. I sit down next to her. "I would have been back sooner, but he wanted me to stay around until he was asleep."

"So you went to the hospital?" She isn't too surprised by this. "I figured you'd go there or out to do something self-destructive."

"And you decided to sit here waiting for what?" She doesn't look too worried.

"I decided to give you some time before I came after you. I would have preferred you asked me to take off, but ultimately I understand." The thing is, Sara does understand. She understands like Erik understood.

"So did you end up doing something self-destructive?"

Sara looks directly at me, and even though we're surrounded by darkness, I can see her perfectly. "I ended up drinking too much."

"I've stayed clear of the stuff thus far." I'm a little bit proud of that.

"Then what have you done?"

This is one of those moments. It's another one of those moments that move our relationship forward or backwards. "I fucked around a lot." It was fucking. It wasn't ever anything else. I couldn't even call it 'just sex'.

Sara's eyes widen a little bit, but she gathers her control back in record time. "That can be just as dangerous as having a few drinks."

I nod. "Can be. But I get tested regularly and was careful most of the time."

"It only takes once." It's not a true chastisement, just more of a statement. "Does Jenny know about any of this?"

"Nope," I shake my head. "I wasn't sure how to explain that one."

"Make sure you get tested again before you decide to do anything with her. You owe her that much."

This is an odd conversation. I'm not uncomfortable exactly, but this is weird. "I'll definitely do that."

"So when was your first time?" Her delivery of the question officially makes me fully aware she is completely uncomfortable.

"When did you start drinking?" One question deserves another.

"After I was kicked out," she doesn't even hesitate in her answer. "There was no way I could have gotten away with drinking around Laura."

Touché. "I was thirteen. The girl I was with was sixteen. It wasn't my best performance ever." A smile leaks out onto my lips, but the look Sara gives me reigns it right back in.

"How many 'performances' have you had?"

I'm not sure that's a fair question. "Enough." I shrug. "Probably close to twenty or so."

"Twenty!" Sara shouts then takes a quick look around and lowers her voice. "You're only sixteen years old." Now the parent is coming out.

"Maybe less." But most likely more.

Sara gives a disbelieving shake of her head. "You've got more experience than I do."

"More experience in what?" Catherine surprises us both by her sudden appearance. She looks like she's just woken up. So it could be safe to assume that she has no idea what we're talking about.

I respond with the first thing that comes to mind. "Injuries." I hold up my left hand. "I've had more injuries."

"Well that makes sense," Catherine replies through a yawn and sits down next to Sara. "You've done more sports."

"Or she could be more clumsy," Sara says to Catherine but grins at me.

"So is Jenny still upstairs?" I point upwards, not exactly towards my room but just up.

Sara nods. "She's sleeping soundly. I called her mother and told her that she was probably going to stay the night."

"Ms. Swanson didn't have a problem with that?"

"No. She said it was good for Jenny to have a night away from things." Sara looks at me like I need to offer an explanation, but it's time I get away from the two of them. The last thing I need is them double teaming me at this time of night.

I stand up and make my way towards the door. I open it soundlessly and move inside. Before I shut the door behind me, I hear Catherine ask Sara if everything is okay. I wonder how Sara is going to explain to her partner in life that her daughter took off and she didn't find the need to share.

Hanging out for their conversation doesn't seem like the thing to do at the moment. I make my way upstairs and to my room. Jenny's still sound asleep on the bed, but this time I feel a lot better about sharing that space with her.

I kick off my shoes and slide into the bed. Jenny turns around and faces me. "You work out everything?"

Deep down I knew she wouldn't have stayed asleep. She probably woke up the minute I left. "I did what I could."

She gives me a sleepy smile. "Good." She reaches over and takes my arm so that she can put it around her. "I don't like it when you hate yourself." She kisses my hand then relaxes her body against mine.

I'm feeling pretty tired at the moment. It seems like a good opportunity for me to rest before something else decides to blow up in my life and I have to discover some way to handle it all.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-four**

As a rule, I stay as far away from a kitchen as I possibly can. I don't like cooking at all really for any reason. But Sara didn't try to hang me when I got home last night, and Catherine was relatively cool about picking me up from being arrested, and Jenny well she's just kind of here. I'm still not sure where Lindsey is hanging out these days though.

I've just finished setting up the table and starting up the coffee. The bacon is sizzling in the pan and even though Sara and I both won't touch it Catherine, Lindsey, and Jenny will. I don't like preparing meat, but I guess over the course of a lifetime I'll have to make a few sacrifices.

Lindsey is the first one that makes it into the kitchen, but she came from the front door of the house. "You've been gone all night?" I ask as I place a glass of orange juice in front of her.

"Mom said I needed to stay at Aunt Nancy's." I bet I'm the reason she did that. Catherine wasn't sure what was going to happen with me. I wonder if I surprised or disappointed her. "Do you know why?"

Of course she would ask me that question. I'm not going to lie about it. "I'm guessing it's because of me. I sort of beat a guy up yesterday at school."

Lindsey looks directly at me and blinks a couple of times until she says, "Oh. I heard about that." I cross my arms in front of me and look at her for an explanation. "Yeah. It was on the news last night. They didn't release any names or anything."

It was on the news? I can see the lead in to that story, 'More Violence in America's Schools, catch the full story on the 10 o'clock news'. Well the positive is that they didn't release my name. It's good being a minor, I guess. Hopefully the story will fade into the background when the next murder case hits the papers. This is Las Vegas, there's no possible way that my story could last past a day.

"So what did they say?" I take a seat across from Lindsey.

"Not much," Lindsey shrugs. "They said some guy was stopped by some girl from beating on some other girl."

"Sounds simple enough," I get out of the chair and go check on the bacon.

"I smell Coffee," Catherine's voice calls from the stairway. "Hey, Sweetie." When I turn around Catherine is pulling Lindsey into her arms. "When did you get back?"

Lindsey allows Catherine to give her a brief hug then pulls away. "Few minutes ago."

I can tell Catherine notices the brush off from Lindsey, but doesn't comment on it. She's getting used to Lindsey acting more and more like a regular teenager, much like myself. Catherine's realized for the next few years she's going to be a social leper to Lindsey.

"You're cooking," Catherine finally speaks to me as she pours herself a cup of coffee.

"Yeah. It seemed like something to do." I wasn't able to sleep that much and this is my way of paying some things back. I've got to get myself in order a bit.

"Well you didn't have to do it, but it is appreciated." Catherine takes a sip of her coffee and looks at the cup surprised. "Did you make this?"

"Yeah. I wasn't sure how strong you and Sara take it, but I figured old people like a lot of caffeine." I grin at her so that she knows I'm joking. Some people can be sensitive with jokes about their age. Catherine comes across like she could be one of them.

"You're lucky this is really good coffee." She accepts the joke and that makes me feel better about what I said. I should think more sometimes before I say things.

Sara comes down the stairs next. She says her hellos to Lindsey and gives the girl a kiss on the head. She then turns to Catherine and gives her a kiss too. When she looks at me and I lock eyes with her I can tell she doesn't know how to greet me and I don't think I could handle a whole lot right now.

"There's coffee waiting for you," I tell her. She gives me a slight nod and it's obvious to me she understands what I've really said. "Catherine says it's drinkable."

Sara gets herself a cup and our eye contact is broken. We've got a lot to work on with our displays of affection towards each other or maybe it's just me that needs to work on it. Sometimes it's really hard for me to be touched. I'm feeling like it's one of those days.

I've got the food on the table when Jenny finally makes her way into the kitchen. She looks at the food surprised. I guess she figured I was going to make cereal for everyone instead of the stack of pancakes, cut fruit, bacon, toast, and eggs I've bothered to prepare.

"Take a seat," I pull out a chair for her with a bit of difficulty since I'm still using one crutch.

She takes a seat and smiles up at me. "It smells really good."

I take my own seat and we all start diving into the ample food that I've prepared. Either they know not to spit out the food or really do like it, but soon most of it is gone.

"Mel you have a hidden talent." Catherine leans back in her chair. "How did you learn to cook like this?"

I'm not too thrilled that Catherine asked that particular question. I guess, though, that when someone cooks and people eat that's a common question that comes up. "Sometimes I needed to cook back at home." That seems like a vague enough answer that isn't a mood killer.

Even though I kept it vague everyone at the table except Lindsey understands that there's a whole lot more story between the lines of my one sentence. Maybe all three of them will ask me about it later, but now isn't the time for a heart to heart like that. This morning is about being together and me doing something nice. My tortured childhood is something we can share and grow on later.

"So have you two decided to go to work tonight?" It's Saturday and sometimes they work on Saturdays. I don't have to mess with school, which is a good thing. The gossip can die down over the weekend.

"We have to go in at our normal times," Sara answers. "So you're going to be watching Lindsey."

Catherine looks almost as surprised by this as Lindsey does. I hope to keep my expression neutral. "I can do that. I think this weekend I'm going to take a break."

"Are you sure you want to watch Lindsey?" Catherine asks, maybe even hoping that I'll say I don't want to spend anytime with Lindsey at all. Maybe my outburst yesterday got to her a lot more than anyone realized.

"If there's a problem or something, that's cool." I say as evenly as I can. "I don't mind doing it though."

"I want to stay with Mel, Mom." Lindsey adds her two cents. "She's a lot cooler than Aunt Nancy."

Yeah I'm a lot cooler than a woman who is like over twice my age. "I don't see a problem with it," Sara adds looking directly at Catherine. I think there might be some unhappiness happening in paradise and I just might be the cause of it.

"Maybe Lindsey should stay with her Aunt," I say before Catherine can respond. "I might decide to go out late tonight or somethin'."

"If you're going out, then Lindsey should stay with her aunt." Catherine says not to me, but to Sara. I wonder if they know the rest of us are still in the room.

"Mel shouldn't be going out late tonight anyway." Sara actually says this to me. "She shouldn't go out for about a week."

So I guess she's not going to let that whole taking her car thing slide. "For a week?" Catherine asks, clueless as to why Sara even said what she did. "Why?"

"She should take it easy on her hand and foot." Sara replies, this time turning her attention to Catherine.

"And I completely get that." I jump in before Catherine can ask any more questions. "A week indoors just might be what the doctor ordered."

Catherine looks curiously at both Sara and me, but she doesn't ask any more questions. That's a good thing. Sara and her can work out whatever they need to later. "Then I guess Lindsey can stay here with you." She still doesn't sound too sure about it, but she's risking looking really bad here. Eventually she'd have to come out and tell us all sitting here that she doesn't trust me with Lindsey. I'm not sure how that admission would fly over.

I mean, I completely understand why she would feel that way now. I completely would totally get it, but I don't want to hear her say that. It might hit one of my sore spots about being inadequate or something. It's amazing, but I think I need Catherine to have faith in me. I need everyone at this table to have faith in me. I might need it more now than I did before.

"I should be getting back home," Jenny stands up taking her plate with her. "I'm sure my parents are wondering what I'm doing. I should check back in with them." I think I might have just made up for that awkward dinner I had at her place.

She takes her dish to the sink and rinses it off, rather quickly. "I'll call you later, Mel."

"I'll walk you to the door," I get out of my chair and walk to the door with her. We step outside and close the door behind us. "I'm sorry about that little scene in there. I hope it didn't upset you too much."

"I'm upset that Catherine is being weird." She runs her hand quickly through her silky dark hair. "You'd never hurt Lindsey."

"I can understand how she feels." I mumble my head facing the ground.

Jenny reaches out and lifts my head so that I'm looking directly at her. "But her feeling that way hurts you. I don't want her to hurt you."

I'm about to deny Catherine making me feel anything, but Jenny covers my mouth with her hand. "Don't deny that you have emotions, Mel. That might be one of the worst things you can do."

I nod and Jenny moves her hand away. "Call me if you have any problems at home," I tell her. I still haven't forgotten how her home situation is at the moment.

This time it's her time to nod. "You do the same?"

"Of course." She leans in and gives me a quick kiss then is running down the three stairs of the patio and to her car parked against the curb. I watch her get in and drive away before I turn to go back into the house.

When I get back to the kitchen Sara is cleaning up and the Willows girls are nowhere to be found. "I had planned on cleaning up too." I walk to the sink and start helping Sara with the dishes.

"You cooked." She hands me a plate to dry off. "That means that you don't have to clean."

I take the plate. "So… I'm sorry if I'm making things weird between you and Catherine."

Sara's motions pause for just a second then she releases a sigh. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"I feel like I do." I put the plate I've dried down and turn away from the sink so that I'm facing Sara. "Of all the things that I can potentially mess up, I don't want you and Catherine being one of them."

"Mel," Sara turns her body to me. "Catherine and I may have a differing of opinion at times but that doesn't mean we're messed up."

"But when your differing of opinion isn't about the best laundry detergent and is about your child, I think it can mess things up." Parents get sensitive about their children, right?

"It might make things difficult at times, but it won't mess anything up." Sara reaches a soapy hand out and puts it on my shoulder. "Trust me," she adds with a grin.

I look at the hand on my shoulder then raise a brow to her. "I think I can do that, but I want you to know that you have to deal with me until I'm eighteen. Catherine is like for your whole life."

Sara's face drops and she looks very serious. "Mel, you're for my whole life too."

So what do I say to that? "That's cool." I turn back to the dishes and start drying off the one's Sara's already washed. I briefly wonder why Sara isn't using the dishwasher. It is one of those great time saving inventions.

Sara turns back to the dishes too. "Catherine will come around," she says almost absently.

I guess I don't have a choice but to believe her. "I'll hurt myself before I hurt Lindsey." I have to believe that I will at least.

"I know." Sara replies softly and I don't have anything else to say to her at the moment. We finish the dishes and go our separate ways.

I go upstairs to my soon-to-be room and find Catherine sitting on the bed. She's staring at the wall rather intently and there's obviously something going on in her head.

"You need something, Catherine?" I stand against the wall with my arms crossed in front of me. Well, I cross them as best I can with my left hand in a cast.

She slowly takes her eyes off the wall and focuses on me. "Can I trust you with Lindsey?"

I honestly didn't think Catherine would have the guts to confront me about this. Maybe I've misjudged Catherine on a few things. "I won't put a hand on Lindsey or repeat to her anything Laura ever said to me. I promise."

Catherine looks intently at me for a few moments more then nods her head. "Okay, then you've got my complete trust."

It can't really be that easy. "That's it?" My hands fall to my sides. "I say I won't do anything and you trust me?"

Catherine gets up off my bed and walks to where she's standing directly in front of me. "Of all the things you've done and said you've never lied. You may have omitted some truth, but you've never lied. Should I have a reason not to trust you?"

A good reason to tell her would be that I don't really trust myself, but I can't say that to her right now. I can't break the trust she's given back to me so quickly. "I'll do my best to keep your trust." It's not an answer to her question and we both know that, but Catherine doesn't seem too concerned about it.

With one more look at me, Catherine walks out of my room and closes the door behind her. I'm alone now, and I've got to figure out what has happened this morning. I probably need to think about more than that, but I really don't want to think about anything today.

There are too many things I need to figure out still. I thought everything was supposed to naturally resolve itself. I haven't found that to be true thus far. I've had to do a lot of resolving on my own. So I guess wonders never cease and there's no easy way out.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

Sometimes it's necessary to just come out with things and let them go as they go. It's time for me to throw my shit on the table and see what happens. It's time for me to move on a little bit. That means it's time for me to initiate a conversation with my mother about something neither of us probably ever want to talk about.

"Here," I throw some papers on the table in front of Sara. "Those are all the paper's the lawyer gave me dealing with Mom's and Dad's estate."

She chokes on the bottled water she's sipping on. "What?" She asks through a cough.

"It's everything from the estate. They didn't leave you anything, but I think that's because they never got over your whole gay thing." I can't help but let out a small chuckle. "In the end I guess I got the best of them."

Sara tentatively reaches out for the papers but pulls her hand back before she gets too close. "What do you want me to do with them?"

"Nothin' I guess." I pull a chair out and take a seat next to Sara. "I can't manage any of it until I'm eighteen. Since you're my guardian until that point and time that means you're in charge of it."

"What do you want to do with it?" She asks staring at the papers instead of me. This is probably the closest she's come to something of her parents in a while. She didn't really participate during the funeral. I got everything together and made all the decisions. She just had to show up to get me at the social services building.

I shrug. "The money will help with school and stuff, but everything else I would like see burnt to the ground."

"Were they still running that place?" We're both staring intently at the papers.

"The bed and breakfast?" Sara has been out of touch. "They sold it after it got out of hand for them. It ended up demanding too much of their time."

Sara turns her head and looks curiously at me. "So what did they do for money?"

"Got jobs. Laura ended up working for some hotel and Dad worked for some tourist thing." I lean forward in the chair and put my elbows on the table. "Them working out of home was the best thing that happened to me. They weren't around and that let me do what I wanted."

"Freed up your time to sleep with every girl willing, you mean?"

That honestly surprises me. I didn't think Sara would ever want to bring that up again. I guess I was wrong. "That didn't take up all of my time and I never took anyone back to the house with me. I knew what would have happened if Laura would have caught us."

"You would have been living with me sooner."

That's a possibility, but not a realistic one. I wouldn't have bothered to contact Sara then. I would have wanted to be stubborn and prove that I didn't need anyone to support me. I would have found someplace to stay. "We could hope that's the way it would be."

Sara stares at me for a moment, obviously thinking of the what ifs then nods her head. "We could hope."

"So you know though," I reach out for the papers and pick them up. I'm looking at them, but I'm not reading anything on the pages. "I never was like a sexual predator or anything. I mean, if someone wasn't into it or something I wouldn't force them."

"I know you wouldn't," Sara runs a hand quickly through her hair. "It surprises me that you have as much experience as you do. You're only sixteen."

"Sex was something I could control." That's the best explanation that I have. It's the only explanation that I have. She's kind of lucky she's getting an explanation at all.

"Can you honestly tell me that you don't think you emotionally hurt any of those girls you slept with?"

Sara must have gotten burnt in the past. "I never lied about anything. I was upfront about what I wanted. If they didn't get it, then I can't be blamed for that."

"I hope you don't run into any of them again, for your sake." Sara says looking away from me.

"It wasn't like that." I put the papers back on the table. "A lot of the women I slept with were well into their twenties." I'm thinking that might have been the wrong thing to say.

Sara turns slowly back to face me directly. "What?"

"You and I both know I don't look like I'm sixteen years old. I could easily pass for at least twenty, and a lot of people don't ask for IDs before they decide to fuck someone." I probably shouldn't be so defensive. Sara probably has a big problem with that statutory rape thing, not that I don't.

"Clubs and bars ask for IDs."

"That's easy to get around. You know that."

Sara shakes her head a few times. "Unbelievable," she whispers mostly to herself.

"Look, I'm willing to admit that some of them I probably did do wrong by, but what does that matter now?" I lean back in my chair and turn my head towards the ceiling. "It's in the past and if it happens to catch up with me, then I'll deal with it then."

Sara leans forward. "And how do you expect to deal with it?"

I keep focused on the ceiling. "I'll tell the truth. I'll tell them that I was using them as an extension to escape my fucked up childhood. I'll say I was using them as a way to control my life and my body and my self-esteem and that it had very little to do with them." I drop my gaze to Sara's. "I'll tell them every little thing that those pamphlets tell me that I'm feeling and maybe they can move on with their lives with a little more closure while I still try to figure out if I'll use Jenny in the same way."

"What do you mean use Jenny in the same way?" Sara asks carefully.

I close my eyes and rub at them with my thumb and forefinger of my right hand. "I can't say to myself or anyone else with any true amount of certainty that I won't twist my relationships into part of whatever rebellion I have playing out inside of me against everything that happened to me as I was growing up." My right hand falls to my lap and I open my eyes. "And I honestly don't see how you can either."

A spark goes off in Sara's eyes and I think I've said something that probably wasn't healthy. I honestly wanted us to get the estate stuff out of the way. I didn't have any plans to start a confrontation about anything. "What are you saying?" She asks slowly.

Maybe I can say I'm not saying anything. Maybe I can get up and walk away and avoid something that has already been avoided before, or maybe I shouldn't run away and should sit this one out. "A part of our past is realizing what it does to us now. You've got Catherine in your corner and that's an awesome thing because she's a great person, but what have you done to sabotage the relationship? What have you done to push her away so that she couldn't come close to your broken center?" My complete honesty has to be the best policy. "Me? I had or have a revolving door to my bedroom. No one gets a chance to stay long enough to get a chance at being anything more to me than a warm body."

There's an angry outburst on the tip of Sara's tongue, there must be. She's going to say something and I'm going to respond defensively and we'll have another fight. We haven't had a good one of those lately. I was starting to wonder where they went off to.

Sara's eyes have narrowed and she takes a few deep swallows. "You're right, Mel." What? "It took forever for me to trust Catherine. It took forever for me to let her get close to me. I was afraid to even let her touch me, because she made me feel things past my own self-loathing."

The muscles in my body relax and I feel like a deflated balloon, or better yet, I feel like one of those weird looking blowfish who've just realized they got all blown up over some speck floating in the water. "How long did it take before you actually decided that being in a relationship with her wasn't bad?"

"Honestly?" Sara releases a derisive chuckle. "I still have moments of doubt, not with her, but with me. I still wonder if I can do it and be nothing like my parents. But I know that if I let those moments take over my life again then I'm going to lose her and I'm not willing to do that."

I don't really have anything to say to that. I don't have any story to tell her that would fill in the empty space of my still undiscovered depths of anger and pain. I don't have a big realization that she has with Catherine. I have no idea what I'm doing with Jenny and I don't know how to figure it out. It's not like I can go up to her and tell her that I need to discover if our relationship is going to be about me wanting to control something in my life again or if it's me making an honest effort to try becoming someone who isn't as I am.

"I'm not superman." What did I just say and why did I just say it?

Sara moves her chair closer to mine. "No one is." She looks down at her lap. "When Catherine and I had been together for a couple of months, I told her about you. She told me we could go get you and take you away from them. She told me we should take you away. She said we didn't have to tell you anything."

"How long ago was this?" I'm not sure I really want to know.

Sara licks her lips and bites down on her bottom lip for a brief moment. "Two years."

I didn't want to know. "And you didn't listen to her because?"

"I wasn't strong enough." She rubs both her hands down her thighs. "I wasn't strong enough to walk back into their home and tell them I was walking away with you, and I wasn't strong enough to face you. I thought I was too messed up to even try and be a parent to you."

"And I reminded you of your rapist," I probably didn't need to add that in, but I'm sure that was part of her not being strong enough. Plus, I said reminded not remind. Maybe Sara will realize that little fact.

Sara drops her head. "You remind me of a lot of things Melinda and a lot of them aren't bad."

I cross my legs and my arms. I try to distance myself the best I can from whatever it is Sara is telling me. Despite what some might think, the truth hurts and in my case it hurts multiple times in multiple ways.

"You were two years old when I left," she says her head still turned downwards, "when I was kicked out. The first two years of your life, in a way, were the best of mine. When you were born, I knew from the moment I saw you that you were going to be able to be everything that I could never be. I knew you were going to be the best of everything I was, of everything the Sidles had to offer."

I feel like crying but I hold back. She's not going to make me cry, that's not what this conversation is supposed to be about. We're supposed to talk about the estate. It doesn't matter how she felt about me when I was born. That was a long time ago. I've grown up since then.

"Leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever done and I've regretted it ever since then, but I still look at you and I know that you're the best part of me."

I push my chair away from hers. "Where is this coming from? What is this about?"

Sara lifts her head and looks directly at me. "I need to tell you this. You need to know."

I shake my head. "No I don't."

"You do. You need to know because you're a better person than you think, Melinda." Sara closes the distance between us. I try to move away again but she grabs onto my good hand, stopping me from moving anywhere.

"All parents think their kid is special." It's weak but that's all I can come up with to say right now, besides it's the truth.

"That's probably true," Sara gives a half smile, "and I'm more than happy to be your parent who thinks that."

I open my mouth to say something but quickly close it again when I hear the front door open. Sara and I both turn to the door and see Catherine stepping through it. The moment she looks at the both of us, it's easy to tell she thinks she's walked in on something.

"Do you need me to leave?" She asks not even fully inside the apartment yet.

Sara looks to me. She's going to let me answer. "Nah," I shrug my shoulders, "You act as just as much as a parent to me as Sara does these days."

"Okay." Catherine closes the door. "Then what is it we're talking about?"

"I just threw some of the estate stuff at Sara," I try to answer as smoothly as possible.

Catherine looks between Sara and me. "Oh."

"I need to go to my room and look through some more stuff to see if I lost anything." I know I've got everything on the table and maybe both of them know it too, but they don't say anything as I turn around and walk away.

When I get to my room I close the door, for the most part. I leave it cracked open just a little so that if Catherine and Sara are going to say something then I'll have a chance of hearing it. I'm not really into this eavesdropping stuff, but they say more when I'm not around than when I am. I don't know if that's normal adult behavior or something, but I'm not a big fan of it. I know that the both of them talk to each other a lot. They've got that communication thing down pat, but I don't think they've got it down with me just yet.

A few minutes pass and I don't hear a single interesting thing. They're talking about Lindsey's classes and Catherine asks if Sara is going to go to the grocery store sometime this week, cause apparently we're running low on food supplies. Sara blames me for the shortage.

"Hey!" I call out before I think about it. "I'm not the only one that eats food."

Catherine and Sara laugh and I give up on my false search. I go back out to where they are and take my seat again.

"Couldn't find anything else?" Catherine asks. Her eyes have a slight glint to them, but I don't know what that means exactly.

I shake my head. "Not a thing."

"So how do you feel about this?" Catherine picks up the papers and starts reading them.

"It's all in Melinda's hands." Sara answers, cause the question wasn't directed at me.

"Isn't that a little unfair of you," Catherine says. "You're dumping everything on her."

"Yeah," I speak up. "Isn't that a little unfair of you?" I try and match Catherine's tone but it's a really bad imitation.

Sara doesn't look too amused. "Melinda, everything is in your name. It is literally all in your hands."

"That's easy to change," Catherine replies for me. "All she has to do is sign it all over to you."

Sara lets a heavy sigh escape. "Fine, then let's get this all worked out."

Catherine hands Sara the papers, which Sara slowly takes. I wonder why I didn't go to Catherine with the papers first. She seems to be on my side of the issue a lot, but then again I think she just wants to help Sara be a parent sometimes. Catherine, apparently, was on my side before I even knew her. I can't help but think that maybe if Catherine wasn't around that Sara would have never picked me up after what happened to our/her parents.

"Did you ever try and see me after you left?" Ending our conversation where it left off probably would have been for the best, but there are still answers that I want. There's still stuff I want to know and in order to get a chance to know it I'm going to have to ask questions.

Sara puts the papers down and she knows exactly what I'm talking about. She probably hoped that I would drop the conversation now that she's actually looking at the papers I threw down in front of her.

"Once I talked myself into going to see you. It was your first day of school. You looked beautiful and healthy and perfect. You weren't nervous at all. You walked right through those front doors like you owned the place. You didn't look like you needed me at all."

I remember that day, and I did take over that school on the first day. I wasn't going to hide in the shadows and not appreciate the time I had away from my 'parents'. That first day I knew I had a way out of the Sidle home. It's amazing how smart I became just after one day of school. Laura had told me to go to school and act normal; she said this as if I knew what normal was. She didn't want me to draw too much attention to myself but didn't want me to cower in the corner either. She didn't want me to give anyone any reason to believe that something wasn't perfectly okay in my world.

For the most part I listened to her, but I also figured out that if everyone was looking at me then everyone would be looking at Laura too. With everyone watching us so closely Laura couldn't possibly hurt me as much as she had been doing. That was my child's logic and it worked to an extent but that really only means that I got bruises where they didn't show. It means that Laura figured out another way to torture me without leaving marks.

During all this, the only thing I probably needed more than anything was my mother. I wish I would have seen Sara that first day. If I had, I would have grabbed hold of her and never would have let her put me down or brush me away. Seeing her would have… I don't even know if I would have recognized her.

"I was in college at the time," Sara says and I have to force myself to listen. "I deluded myself into believing that I could have a normal life, then. I thought I could participate in the real world without anything from my past getting in my way." She shakes her head in her own disbelief. "It ended up being that the single burst of confidence I had was torn down the moment I saw you. I wasn't good enough for you. I'm still not sure I ever will be."

Catherine's looking straight at me, urging me to say something. Probably urging me to disagree with Sara and to say she's good enough, but I don't know that. I don't know what good enough is. I can't be the measure of that. I don't want to be. "Well that's something you're going to have to decide."

Sara looks up at me confused. There's a question rolling around in her head waiting to be let free, but I don't think it's going to make it past her lips. Catherine's still staring at me. She doesn't know what's going on either, I don't think. Maybe she expected me to yell at Sara or maybe she expected me to run away, but I hear that people don't change if they continue to do the same things they did before. So, I'm trying to not do the same things.

When it comes to Sara, rationalization isn't my biggest skill. Sara represents all kinds of pain to me and I probably do the same for her. I reach out with my good hand and lay it on Sara's arm. "I'm not going to measure if you're good enough, Sara." I shrug my shoulders. "I can't decide that; only you can. But if it helps, then I think you're an incredible person." And that's all I can take. I drop my hand and get up from my seat. "I think we might need a break," I say as I point to the front door. I'm announcing my exit this time. "We can talk again later."

Neither of them stops me or calls out to me. This time I'm not running away angry. I didn't say anything that was too mean. I think I may have acted like a mature person. Still, though, after hearing all that I am angry at Sara. I'm angry and hurt and I really wish she had never left me. I wish she would have fought her parents and fought everything that happened to her. I wish she would have swept me away from all the bad things and taken me to all the good.

That's not a realistic wish. I know that. It was never realistic it could never be realistic. Life is a lot more complicated than that. The way she was, before, Sara probably wouldn't have been a good parent. She probably needed something to happen that would put her on the right track. Things work out like they should, right?


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

"So why exactly are you breaking up with me again?" I hate talking, that's something a lot of people seem to have forgotten. I hate talking and having to explain what it is I'm saying. People need to be able to get inside my head and decipher my meaning with the least amount of words possible. The more words the more complicated it gets.

"I'm not doing this right," I make an attempt to run both hands through my hair, but since my left is in a cast the attempt isn't very successful. I lift my head and look across from me into Jenny's confused eyes. "I can't make you any promises."

Jenny shakes her head slightly. "I haven't asked you for any."

I never thought this would be easy. I knew that it would be hard and I'd have to stand my ground no matter what. I should try and keep to that. I should try and make sure that I can stay true to whatever got me here in the first place. I guess it'd be fair to call it desperation. "Everything is a promise," I say softly. "I have to promise you my honesty and, well, I have to promise you everything that a relationship deserves and I can't do that. I'm lost trying to figure everything out and I don't know how to figure it out so that it makes perfect sense."

"Melinda," Jenny reaches out and puts her hand softly on my thigh. "Where is this coming from?"

I shrug. "The heart, I guess." It's certainly not coming from anything else. I'm good at dragging people down; at least I think I could be really good at it. I haven't paid enough attention to anyone in the past to figure that out. I do know, though, that right now I'm not heading to good places.

"I'm not understanding this, like at all." Jenny keeps her hand on my thigh keeping up that slight contact but she doesn't push it any more than that. "You have to help me out here."

"I'm bad okay?" I move her hand off my thigh. "I'm fucking messed up. I'm no good, I'm especially not good enough to be tryin' to take hold of a life that I can't handle yet." The truth shall always come out, right? "I'm not a good person, Jenny. I've fucked around a lot. I did a lot of shitty things to a lot of people. I like you. I really do, but there's no way I can do a relationship thing. Consider it like me being on a rehab program. I have to be on my own so that I can get better."

"You're serious?" She whispers.

"For a while I was living a fairy tale." I'm facing Jenny, but I'm not looking at her. I'm not looking at anything in particular. "I got an instant family that was a million times better than the old one. I got to go to a great school with great people. I got to pretend for a while that this was my life and nothing from the other life really existed, but the other life bled into this new one. It was like I was fine one moment, then everything would turn dark and I'd remember what it was like before and I'd be so angry at Sara and I'd lose it. The other life still exists, Jenny. Me leaving it didn't really mean that it left me."

"And that's why you don't want to be in a relationship?" She doesn't sound angry. She sounds like she wants to understand. I don't know how to make her understand.

I put my attention back on Jenny. I look her in the eyes and hold her gaze. She needs to hear what I'm about to say. "I can't promise you that I will never raise a hand to you when I'm angry. It's probably more accurate for me to say that chances are one day I will. You might be willing to take that risk, but I'm not."

"I don't believe you would ever attack me."

She has so much conviction in her voice I almost want to believe her. Although right now I'd like to believe in a lot of things. "I'm sorry," My voice is hoarse and I try to clear it but I don't think it does any good. "I've avoided a lot, Jenny. I've avoided too much and unless I want to turn out like Laura, I can't avoid it anymore." I get up off of her bed and walk to the door. I'm off the one crutch now so at least I can walk away with a little bit of dignity.

Jenny lets me walk out of her room and doesn't say anything else to me. I feel like I'm abandoning her, and that's probably kind of what I'm doing. Love is supposed to carry people through anything, but I made my choice for a reason. I just hope that I remember that reason when I think about what I've done and how it's not exactly undoable.

I didn't tell anyone what I was going to do. The last few days I haven't been very talkative at all. There're been a lot of things that my mind's been screaming at me, but I don't know how to share that with anyone else. I don't know how to talk to Sara, right now. It's hard to talk to her. I'm not sure how we can talk about me without bringing in her as an active subject.

It's not like I've forgotten everything she hasn't done for me. It's not like I've forgotten that if I walk into her work right at this moment everyone will still think that I'm her sister. It's easier for her if they think that. I keep on trying to understand that but so far it really isn't working for me.

I guess that fairy tale I thought I was living in really didn't exist after all. It never was perfect. To tell the truth, I didn't even know I thought it was a fairy tale until recently. I didn't realize that I was actually sort of happy that things had changed so much in my life. I hadn't realized that I was sort of grateful for Catherine being part of a package deal when it came to Sara or that I've actually come to depend on her to kind of be there for me.

A car pulls up next to me as I'm walking in Jenny's neighborhood along the sidewalk. She's the one that took me to her house, so I don't have a ride back. I'll have to share this story with Catherine and Sara so that they can see how important it is at times like this for me to have a car.

I don't recognize the car that pulls up to me, but I do recognize the person inside it. If I recall correctly, then this man is Warrick Brown. He works with Catherine on that swing shift she's doing.

For a moment I debate whether I should walk up to the car or not. I don't know this man very well, and for all I know he could be a serial killer who can't get caught because he works for the Las Vegas crime lab and knows all the ways on how not to get caught. Then again, I just got off the crutch and my foot is starting to hurt like hell. Hopefully his habits don't include murder.

"Hello Mr. Brown," I give him a short wave and lean down so that I can get a good look into the car. "What are you doing out here?"

He smiles and lifts a brow. "I could ask you the same."

I shrug. "I just broke up with my sorta girlfriend. Now I have to walk home."

"Oh you did?" He seems surprised, but I'm not sure what he's surprised about. I have no idea how much this man knows about me.

"Yeah," I sigh, "and I'm trying not to think twice about it."

"You want a ride or do you want to walk and think about it?"

I take a quick look around and realize I've actually gotten further than I thought I had from Jenny's house. I wonder how far I've walked and even if I'm going in the right direction. I haven't really been paying that much attention to that.

"I rather transport in a car."

He leans over and pushes the door open for me. I slide into his rather nice vehicle and close the door softly behind me. He pulls away from the curb and starts driving me somewhere. I don't even know if he knows where Sara's apartment is. I don't even know how much those two talk.

"I'm surprised you got in," he gives me a slight grin. "Catherine says that you can be stubborn."

"She talks about me?" She really doesn't talk about them, at least to me.

Warrick shrugs. "As much as anything else. She worries about you. They both do."

I don't know this man, but he sure is acting like he knows me. "Good." I don't really mean good. I just mean I don't know how to respond. I'm not about to have a heart to heart with him.

"Catherine is at work right now and I'm sure she wouldn't mind you stopping by. She might even be willing to take you home." What am I, a lost puppy? I don't want to go talk to Catherine or anyone else for that matter. I don't want to be involved in any communication at the moment.

"Is that where you're taking me?"

"Yes." He doesn't even hesitate. I've been kidnapped and forced to face my…step-mom I guess. "Sara should be around too. We all have to come in for a special meeting."

I'm sure eventually I would have thought about why Catherine was at work so early, but now that I know the answer I'm glad that I don't have to think about it. Now I have enough time to think a lot about what it is Catherine is telling this man that I don't know. I wonder how good of friends they are or if they're friends at all. If he were a really good friend then wouldn't he come to the house more?

Yeah I can just concentrate on this instead of thinking about what happened with Jenny. This is much easier to think about. There's no self-doubt when thinking about this. I like staying within the boundaries of safety and not worrying about whether or not I just threw away a person who was quickly becoming one of the best friends I've ever gotten a chance to have in this life. So yeah, thinking about Catherine and her helpful friend is good. Thinking about everything else…it's just too hard right now.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

I've only been to Sara's work like one time before, but it seems like enough people remembered me. They all seem friendly enough, although there was this one guy that seemed like he had a stick up his ass, but I didn't catch his name or at least I don't remember it. Fuckley his name was maybe, but that just sounds wrong somehow.

When Catherine and Sara saw me, they asked if everything was okay then sent me off to Catherine's office so that they could attend this meeting once they knew there were no immediate problems. I was still breathing and could count to ten, which seemed good enough for them. I think I would have liked to sit in on their meeting though. I might learn something interesting instead of sitting here playing Solitaire on Catherine's computer. Unfortunately for me, it's the only game she's got.

I'm tempted to connect to the network but I'm not sure how that flies around here. I might get in major trouble for seeing something that shouldn't be seen or whatever. Wouldn't want to get Catherine in trouble; I know she needs her job cause she isn't made of money. Sara isn't so much made of money either. I probably have more money in my name now than they do combined.

That doesn't make me want to take a civil service job. They don't get paid nearly enough for what they have to deal with. Sara's got degrees that she could take anywhere and make a hell of a lot more money than she does now, but she chooses to stay here digging into dead bones or whatever it is she does.

Like for instance, there's this file on Catherine's desk that fell to the floor while I was playing Solitaire, and I couldn't help but take a peek. Right now, she's trying to solve some murder of some teenage girl who I guess was in the wrong place at the wrong time. They think she was shot at a party, but there are no witnesses. No one is talking to them about it, cause who knows why.

This is a high-profile case, I know because I saw the girl's picture on the news. At first, she was missing and then she was dead. I guess it happens like that a lot. I'm kind of surprised that it didn't end up like that with Sara. She was missing from my life for a long time. I wasn't sure if she was alive or not. I wasn't sure of anything having to do with her; I'm still not sure. Who knows if I'll ever be sure.

Anyway, the girl who came up dead she was close to my age. She was only a year older. We didn't go to the same school, but she went to one of the schools we played against in basketball. I don't remember her being on the team but that doesn't mean that she wasn't in the stands watching her home team lose.

I wonder if Catherine thinks of me when she reads that file or of Lindsey. She gets to see the scary world up close and personal and then send her kids… send her daughter out into it while knowing what is out there. Then again, a lot of bad things that are done are done in the home.

When it came to Laura, I would have done anything to get out of that house. I hung out with the people that were "bad news" and I survived it, but there were times when I wished I hadn't. There were times when I was at a party just like the party this dead girl was at and I wanted someone there to shoot me. I wanted to turn up missing so that I could never return.

That's why a lot of people I knew turned to drugs. They wanted to escape and the drugs did that. Seeing a person high like that, well that's something else really. When looking at their faces right when the high hits, a person would think they hit Paradise. Then if the same person was to watch on just a little longer they'd start seeing that Paradise fade and it's a whole different picture. It's a big pathetic picture.

I would have never taken any of that shit; it wasn't worth getting hooked on. Plus, we had regular drug tests at my former high school. If there was one thing I wanted to continue doing, it was playing basketball. The sport gave me more freedom from Laura than anything ever had before.

It was something Laura Sidle allowed me to have. I think, deep down, she knew that I needed something that would get me away from her. She wasn't going to make it easy for me, but ultimately she knew I'd have to have something that would help me get away. Maybe my adopted mother had a heart somewhere buried deep down between all her hatred.

Laura was a very confusing person. She was a very complicated person. She was the woman who raised me. I can't ever forget that little fact. She was the person who I called "mom" for a real long time.

"What are you thinking about?" Sara's voice caresses my ear, but at the same time scares the hell out of me. I didn't see her come into the office and I didn't hear anything either. I jump in my seat but don't fall out of it or anything. I do put my hand over my heart and have no problem feeling my heart beating against my chest.

"I have enough ailments, Biological Mom," I say jokingly. "I don't think I need to add a heart condition to the list." Sara's eyes widen and she takes a quick look around. I forgot. She's not my mother here, she's still my sister. Well, no one's around to hear us. We're alone in an office and the door may be open but no one is standing outside of it. We didn't get caught this time. "So how did your meeting go?"

Sara looks at me and I can tell that she knows she didn't get away with that glance around. She knows that I know what she was looking for and what she was afraid of. "We got yelled at." She knows but she's not going to say anything. I'm tempted to bring it up myself, but I just broke up with Jenny and I don't much feel like bringing it up at all. I don't feel like doing much of anything except maybe sitting in this chair and twirling it around some. Anything else seems too complicated right now.

She puts her hand on my shoulder and bends down so that she's looking at me directly in the eyes. "What's going on with you?"

That's a very good question. It's one of the best questions that I've ever heard. I've asked that a few times myself, and I still don't have an answer. "I broke up with Jenny." I'm pretty sure that's not a correct answer, but it fills up the empty space between Sara and me.

"What?" Sara actually looks a little surprised by this. I kind of thought she'd be expecting it. I don't know why I'd thought it, but maybe I was just hoping she would see exactly what it was that was happening around me. Maybe I was hoping that she had some special insight into my way of being that she just doesn't have.

I don't answer her, but that's because Catherine appears in her office and we're back to the very beginning. Catherine will have to be filled in on what is going on with me. The questions will be asked again, and it'll all be the same. Maybe I could get away with hinting at the fact that Sara is my mother again in this place. I can give her another chance to look around frantically like something bad was going to come jump on her back and beat her down to the ground.

Catherine closes her door and walks up to Sara and me. She sits down on the edge of her desk and her blue eyes immediately invade my personal space. Catherine's really good at doing that. Sara doesn't bother to invade my personal space with her eyes, she's too busy trying to maintain her own personal space to try and invade mine. So, how do I know these things about Sara but it doesn't seem like she gets me at all?

"Do you think you've done something stupid?" It takes me a moment, but I eventually catch onto what it is Catherine is talking about. She knows something has been going on with me, and she's taking a guess that this is the question she needs to ask.

"I think I've done something," Is that even an answer? I don't think that is really an answer.

"Doing something just to do something isn't exactly a good thing." Catherine's eyes are still locked on me. I try meeting them, but I can't keep hold.

"I really don't think it's good for me to be in a relationship right now."

"You broke up with Jenny?" It would seem that Mom finally got a hint. It didn't take her as long as I thought it might.

I kick the chair away from her and spin around so that I get a good view of both my mother and her girlfriend. I haven't really thought about this before, but if I knew them as they are here in this place they work, I would have never thought they would be together. I don't know why I think that, but I just do. It's easier to think about that than to do anything else. Like for instance, it's easier to think about than to take a chance at talking, but I can't stay silent forever. Sara did just ask me a question.

"I don't really love her y'know?" That's not exactly what I wanted to say. "I mean, maybe I could but I don't think I can figure that out until I know something more about what the hell I'm doing." That's better. It probably still doesn't make a whole lot of sense to anyone, but at least it makes sense to me.

Sara eliminates the distance between us and leans down so that she's looking directly into my eyes again. "That makes perfect sense to me."

"Me too," Catherine adds not moving from her place on the desk. "I can't say that I haven't been in the same situation myself."

"Did I do something stupid?" I'm surprised at the sound of my own voice. I can't remember a time I sounded so whiny.

"Probably not," Sara answers my mostly rhetorical question. "You've gone through and are going through a whole lot right now."

My head is starting to hurt from this conversation and we haven't even been talking about it that long. I can feel this anger, right at this moment, building up inside of me and I'm not sure where it's coming from or who it's directed at. Sara is standing really close to me; maybe I'm angry she isn't giving me my space. Maybe I'm angry that Catherine seems so distant right now, or maybe I really don't care about any of that and something else altogether is making me feel frightened and anxious.

Oh. I think it's one of those memory things that happen to me at times. It's those forceful flashes of my youth fighting through the barrier I'm trying to build around them. I don't seem to be able to build it strong enough. I've tried different methods too. I've tried acting like they don't happen as often as they do, but it isn't working for me.

The other night I had a dream about Jenny and me. In the dream I killed her. I couldn't stand the way she was looking at me, cause she was looking at me like I was this pathetic person who didn't deserve anything at all in this world. It was the same look that Laura gave me, so I ended up killing her. I jumped on her and strangled her till she stopped breathing. I didn't even stop when she was begging me to. All I saw around me was Laura Sidle. Her scent bled through the walls and her face was tattooed on the inside of my eyelids. I couldn't escape her.

That dream scared the hell out of me. It scared me so much that the first thing I did was run over to Jenny's and kick her out of my life. My dream self didn't mind killing her, but my real self would have some serious problems with that. At least, that's the way I think it is but I've found out that my dream self is creeping into my life a lot more these days. The anger, it's right here now. The self that I want to be doesn't want this anger. The self that I need to be can't have this anger.

"I dreamt I was going to kill her." I don't know why I'm admitting this. I'm sure there's a better time but maybe there isn't a better place. There're a lot of people walking around here with guns and shit. If I get out of hand then I'm sure someone won't hesitate making sure that I'm put back under control real quick. When Catherine and Sara realize how dangerous I am they won't have to walk far to turn in the teenage psychopath.

"What was the dream about?" Catherine asks taking her place next to Sara.

"I killed Jenny." I thought I had covered that part already.

"What was happening in the dream?" Sara places her hand on my thigh and I imagine that I break it. That's not normal. I know that's not normal, but I think the dream still is freshly inside of me. I still hear Laura, even at this very moment supposedly surrounded by the two people that are supposed to care for me most. I'm not safe even here.

"She gave me a look that I didn't like and I got angry and strangled her to death." I shouldn't omit the part about Laura. I know that I shouldn't do that. It's important. It's probably really important, but why has she become my life? Why does everything have to revolve around what she did to me? Why does it have to come down to just that? What she did to me was supposed to never hurt me like this. I swore to myself that I would never let her hurt me like this. "Laura was there." They were waiting for me to finish.

"Then you breaking up with Jenny probably was for the best." I'm no expert here at this kind of stuff, but coming from Catherine that seems a little cold. Shouldn't she say something else that is supposed to make me feel like this dream I had means nothing? I think she should try something different.

"You need to start seeing Dr. Cameron again." Sara's reply doesn't seem any warmer. "She can help you with this."

She's probably right though. I don't even remember why I stopped going to see Dr. Cameron and I don't know why Sara and Catherine let me do it. Maybe they thought I was getting better too. Stopping therapy wasn't a good idea. I know this, but first the thing happened to my foot and then there was my hand. I had other doctors I needed to see.

"We can make an appointment to see her together later this week if you like?" Well at least Sara is trying to offer me a little support here.

Catherine reaches over and puts her hand on mine. "We can all go to see her."

'We can make it a family outing.' That's what I want to say, but what comes out is a sob that I've been holding back ever since I woke up from my dream last night. I've held it back this long but I can't do it anymore. Sara immediately gathers me up in her arms and starts rocking me back and forth. The motion is oddly comforting. "I can't do this anymore," I say through my tears. "I don't know how I can take this anymore."

"We're going to help you, Sweetie." Catherine's managed somehow to get me enveloped in her arms too. "I promise."

"We're going to make it together." Sara's warm breath caresses my neck and I'm not angry anymore. I just feel like I'm dissolving away in the inside, and I don't think that's a good thing at all.

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**Thanks for the reviews as always, and hopefully no one is too attached to Jenny. **


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

I fall away from the wall I'm leaning against and run my right hand through my hair. I can do this. It only involves putting one foot in front of the other. I've been doing that for a long time now. I'm a stronger person than this. I can walk out into Catherine's living room and face Jenny. We knew she would probably track me down; I couldn't hide away from her forever. She only gave me two days of respite and I most definitely would have liked more.

Okay, so I have to pretend that I'm that other person now, right? I mean, I have to pretend like the last two days haven't been a complete torment for me. I have to make sure Jenny doesn't see that I haven't slept and have hardly eaten anything. I have to make sure that she doesn't notice anything at all about me. I'm not the same person that I used to be. I'm not the same person I pretended to be.

When Catherine and Sara took me home that day from work, I think I was still crying like a little baby. I cried so long I actually forgot what the hell I was crying about. I felt like I had this ball of pain stuck in me that I guess my body thought it could cry out.

The crying didn't work. The ball is still there. It's made its happy home in my chest making it hard for me to even breathe. I haven't taken a fresh clean breath of air in a while now. I wouldn't even know what that feels like. I wonder if anyone I know could tell me. It seems a stupid thing to ask about though.

"What does a breath of fresh air feel like?" Yeah, that's totally stupid.

"It feels like you've been given a second chance to start over." I wasn't expecting an answer, but I'm already too scared to even be scared at Sara throwing some words at me from the other side of this hallway I've been hiding in.

"Then how do you know you can start over?" I lean back against the wall. "How do you know that whatever happened before is actually finished? Something has to end for something else to begin, right?"

Sara looks at me very seriously and seems different to me in this moment somehow. "I don't know."

That was not a whole lot of help. That wasn't any help at all. That answer really sucked. It would be a lot more helpful if my own mother could bestow some grown-up knowledge to me right about now. Maybe she could reach inside those personal experiences of hers and tell me she's gone through this before and everything worked out fine. She could tell me that even if it's not the truth. I don't think I'd mind a lie so much at this point.

"Are you two going to hide here forever?" Hey, maybe Catherine can tell me something to get me off this wall again.

"I might have been planning to." I mean for this to sound light-hearted and joke like, but instead it sounds really truthful and serious.

Catherine walks up to me and places her hand on my shoulder. "You don't have to hide, Melinda. It's probably best that you don't. You can't go anywhere by hiding."

She's stating the obvious and I don't need the obvious right now. I need something a lot stronger than the obvious. I need some faith in something that isn't negative. I need to have faith that I won't pass out when I step away from this wall. I need to have faith that I won't run away out of this house and onto the tallest building I can find and jump off.

"I'm going to go talk to her now." I lift myself off of the wall and stand up as tall as I possibly can.

Catherine's hand falls from my shoulder and I start walking away from her and my mother doing my best to avoid their eyes. Before I can get out of her reach, Sara grabs my arm and pulls me to her. She cups my face in her hands and looks directly into my eyes.

I don't know what she sees but it causes her eyes to widen and I think a little speck of fear falls through the barrier she tries to keep up. "Come back." She whispers to me. "Come back to us, please."

That's weird to say isn't it? I'm right here standing in front of her. What? She can't see me? I'm going out into the living room and I'm going to talk to Jenny about something. I'm sure it's not going to be about me telling the team that I'm not going to nationals with them. I figured I could forego that trip. Everyone thought it was for the best. There's always next year for an opportunity like that.

I take a quick look at Catherine and she's looking at Sara. She seems kind of worried. She grabs my hand and forces me to look down at her. I don't know why they're acting like this. I got off of the fucking wall. That doesn't seem like the thing to get all concerned over. I got off the fucking wall. I'm walking now, which is a lot better circumstance compared to where I was before. The wall was supporting me, now my own two legs are.

"If you bury yourself any further, you'll lose yourself." Sara's hands are still holding my face and she says this to me as I'm looking at Catherine. "You'll never breathe fresh air."

"She can't come out today." Did I say that? It sounded a lot like my voice. I didn't mean to say that.

Catherine releases my hand and gives Sara a quick look then tells us both that she's going to get rid of Jenny. She says I'm not well enough to see visitors. I don't know why exactly. I was going to talk to her. Jenny and I would have had a good conversation about how fucked up I'm getting these days.

"Come on Mel," Sara's hands drop from my face and she wraps an arm around my waist, "you should lay down for a while."

Well I guess if she says so. Who needs to talk to anyone these days? I've been happier with silence lately anyway.

Sara guides me to my room and puts me into bed. She looks down at me for a few minutes but I don't look back at her. I curl up on the bed and hug my extra pillow closer to my body. Some part of my brain is trying to tell me that something very serious is going on in my head right now that I'm not fully a part of at the moment. I know I woke up this morning, but I don't feel like I ever woke up at all. There's been this haze over my world or maybe it's more like a mist. My world is misting. I wonder if anyone else knows what that feels like.

I hear the door to the room close and I guess Sara finally decided to leave me. We weren't having a conversation of any kind anyway. I wouldn't know what to say to her at the moment. I'm still trying to figure out why I told her about the whole burying thing. Maybe she's finally starting to show signs of this whole situation getting to her. Eventually it was bound to happen, right? I mean she's been through a lot lately.

"What do you mean you're leaving?" Wow. That's Catherine. She sounds angry. Maybe everything has started getting to her too. They're both probably going to discover that I'm a lot more of a burden than they thought I was going to be. I'm going to get kicked out now. I knew it would happen.

There's some muffled voices coming from somewhere in the house that I can't fully hear until Sara yells out, "We can't stay here. She can't stay here, not like this!"

That's it. I'm gone. I think part of me hoped that she would be the one on my side. I was kind of hoping that Catherine would be the one to bring up me leaving. She was supposed to have paperwork on places I could go and everything. She would at least be considerate like that.

Well, I guess I should start packing. I don't have all my stuff at Catherine's house yet. We've been moving in very slowly. It's been so slow that I'm not even sure that it's still happening. Though, if I look around it must have been happening because a lot of my shit is here.

It takes a few tries but I'm able to roll off the bed and stand up. There's a part of me that feels the cool carpet against my bare feet, but there's also part of the entire sensation that is missing. I gather up one of my three athletic bags and start throwing things in it. I don't bother with folding. I don't bother with anything really. I don't even bother to keep track of what I'm putting in the damn bag.

Fuck the bag. I can come back later when the mist is somewhat gone. I open the bedroom door and walk to where Catherine and Sara are. They still are arguing and I don't think they see me at all. I'm not even sure if I could see myself. I need a wall to lean against again. My head is spinning.

"Sara, we need to do this together! We said we would do this together!" Catherine's frustrated. I can tell by how she runs her hand through her hair. She tends to do that a lot sometimes.

"She's dying here, Catherine! Haven't you looked at her lately? She's not eating, she's hardly sleeping and when's the last time you had a conversation with her where she didn't sound… completely lost?" Sara looks so deflated. She's not really yelling anymore. I think she's talking about me, though. I'm not dying. I'm supposed to be getting better. It's only been a couple of days that I've been here. That's not too bad. I remember going to the office perfectly and them driving me back here. Jenny gave me two days.

"It's been two weeks, Catherine, and we're losing her." Is that a tear that escapes my mother's eye? "I have to do something," she falls into the nearest chair. "I'm losing my daughter, Catherine. I have to do something."

Catherine walks up to Sara and bends down in front of her. She places both of her hands on Sara's knees and leans in. "Maybe we should consider some of the options the doctor gave us."

"No!" Sara jumps up and Catherine falls harshly away from her. "I'm not going to put her in some hospital! She deserves more from me than that."

Catherine slowly gets up off the floor and brushes her hands against her pants. There wasn't anything on them. I think she just does it for show. Catherine can be kind of showy when it comes to her appearance. "You think whisking her away will help her?" She says calmly. I'd say almost too calmly. "She needs professional help, Sara. That's what she needs and we both know that." She looks angry now. "We tried helping her, Sara." She walks right back up into my mother's face. "We tried helping her and we failed, okay?" All the sudden the anger's gone. "We failed, okay?"

No one failed. They need to know that. I think they really need to know that. I haven't failed either, cause I'm still here. I'm right here. I'm wall leaning right here kind of behind them. They don't need to put me anywhere. Sure, today seems to have been a little weird and I don't feel like myself. At least if I knew what myself felt like then I'm sure this wouldn't be it.

I push off of the wall I've been leaning against and stumble into the living room, where they've been fighting. I don't even remember going down the stairs. "I don't want to go to the hospital."

They both look at me surprised. I knew they didn't know I was there. "I don't want to go the hospital." It's something that should be repeated. "I don't like hospitals."

Sara runs over to me and puts her arm around my waist like I need her support or something. She leads me to the sofa and sits me down. "What are you doing back up?"

"I heard you arguing about me." Even though they really weren't arguing about what I thought they were arguing about. Though, I still might need to keep a bag packed. "I don't want to go to a hospital."

"You're not going to Sweetie," Sara looks directly at me as she says this. "I promise you, I'm not going to do that to you."

I look at Catherine and she has her arms crossed in front of her. As soon as she catches me staring at her she uncrosses her arms and leans down in front of me. "We want what's best for you."

"You think a hospital is best for me," I spit back at her. "You want me to go to the crazy house."

Catherine looks away from me but slowly forces her gaze back to mine. "I think that might be best for you, yes. Above everything Mel, I want you to get well. I want whatever it is that's causing you to fall apart to go away. You know I think of you as a daughter, and I only want my daughter to stop suffering from this pain."

I turn and look at Sara. "And you?"

Sara looks at Catherine but quickly turns to me. "I want to take you away from here and see if that will help. I want to take you back to the ocean." She gives me a weak smile that I don't believe means anything.

"Has it really been two weeks?" I ask, just now letting in parts of their conversation that I really wanted to block out.

They both nod their heads and it scares me. I only remember two days. I can remember those days so clearly. They were hard yeah, but they seemed normal. Were they even real? Is this conversation now even real?

"This is the most lucid you've been since we brought you back from the office," Catherine adds. "Do you remember that?"

I nod. "I think I do. I'm not sure."

"That's fine. You don't need to remember everything now." That's easy for Sara to say. She's not the one that lost a few days.

"What do you want to do?" Catherine asks me. I didn't expect the question from her and I don't think Sara does either.

What do I want to do? That seems like a very big question. I don't know if I can handle big questions right now. "I don't want to go to the hospital." That's all I know at the moment. I don't like hospitals. When my grandparents were in the hospital I had to sign the papers to disconnect life support to my grandmother. I didn't like hospitals then either.

"You don't have to go to the hospital. We'll leave for this place I know tomorrow." Sara's arm, the one that's still wrapped around me, runs across my back. "Does that sound okay to you?"

I nod and instead of trying to walk back up the stairs to my room I place my head in Sara's lap and lay down. I reach out for Catherine's hand and pull her closer to me.

Catherine runs her free hand through my hair and I close my eyes. I think she thinks I'm asleep when I hear her tell Sara, "I'm coming with you. Don't argue with me. She's my daughter too and you're not going to do this alone. Lindsey can stay with her aunt."

* * *

**Things may get a little worse before they get better.**


	29. Chapter 29

**I'm giving fair warning that Chapters 29-33 have more graphic scenes of abuse. I debated whether or not to post these chapter together, but I figured it was like ripping off a bandage. Do it all at once. As always thank you for sharing your thoughts with me. Enjoy...**

**Chapter 29**

There's a cool breeze running over my heated skin. It feels good. It's one of the best sensations I think I've ever had in my life. The sun is setting and it looks beautiful. I'm standing with the sand between my toes and I feel like I'm at home. There's nothing that can touch me here. Nothing can touch me here at all. But the cool breeze unexpectedly turns cooler and it picks up speed. It doesn't feel good anymore. It feels like a whip against my skin. I turn around to go back to the house, the house made of glass, and the door slams shut before I can reach it.

My hand reaches out for the handle, fighting against the wind, but the door has locked. It can't be opened. I look into the window and see Catherine curled up on the sofa tightly held in Sara's arms. They look happy. They look incredibly happy. I pound on the glass and scream as loud as I can, "It hurts! It hurts!" They turn to me and look at me and start laughing. They point and they laugh and they say things I can't hear. They say things I don't want to hear.

I turn away from the happiness I can't reach and am faced with the harsh wind. I take a step into it, but it's too much for me to take. I can't walk through that. It hurts too much. I curl away from the flow of the wind and lean up against the house. Slowly I slide to the ground and put my head down to my knees—the wind constantly beating against me. It starts hurting so much I'm convinced it is a whip against my skin.

I'm no longer at the beach when I lift my head back up. I'm back with my "mother". I'm back with the woman who raised me. I'm back with her and she's standing over me with a belt. It's my father's belt. He never wears it anymore. Now, it's just for her to use.

"You think you're smart, girl?" She asks me but I know not to answer. I know this time I shouldn't answer. "You don't know anything. You're stupid, do you hear me? You're worthless."

I still know not to say anything. I'm not supposed to talk now. If I say something then she'll hit me harder. She'll hit me hard enough to break the skin and then I'll have to clean up the cuts. All we have is alcohol to clean the cuts with. That might hurt worse than the actual cut. I think it hurts worse.

"No one wants you, Girl. I don't even want you. Your real mother didn't even want you."

She says stuff like this all the time, but she doesn't mean it. She gets angry sometimes and she pretends like I'm not her daughter. Sometimes I pretend that too. I write my sister and ask her if these really are my parents. I ask her if I wasn't meant to be someone else's child. I tell her that I'd be happier that way. I tell her that it wouldn't even matter if we weren't sisters because it's not like we're sisters anyway. I know that I have a sister. It's like knowing that there's a moon—it's good to know it but it doesn't mean much because it's so far away. It's so far away and untouchable.

But I'm not untouchable. I get hurt easily. I'm never strong enough. Melinda, she isn't strong enough. She breaks easily and can't handle the pain or mother's words. So, I can't be Melinda anymore. I can't be weak like her anymore. I'd die if I stayed like her.

I don't want to die.

I promise I'll be better. I promise I'll be stronger. I promise to be someone else. I promise to never be Melinda again.

Mother places her hand on my shoulder. It's warm to the touch and a sharp contrast from the sores on my back. If she hadn't given me the pain then I'd be comforted by her touch now. I'm not comforted.

"Don't touch me," I plead. "Please, don't touch me." Don't pretend like you love me when you really don't. I've seen how other parents treat their kids and it's not like this. It's never like this.

"Mel?" Don't talk to me either. Your voice is hatred. "Mel? Sweetie, why don't you come back inside? It's raining too hard for you to be outside right now." That's not Mother's voice.

"Mel, come back inside off of the roof, please." No. That's not Mother's voice either.

My eyes open and I'm so surprised I almost lose my footing on the shingled roof. I'm standing outside the window of the room Sara gave me when we first got here. I think it was three days ago. I'm not sure about those kinds of things these days. I wish…

It's raining out here and there's a lot of lightening crackling around me. I should probably get back inside. I turn around and see Catherine directly behind me. She's standing right here next to me. Her clothes are soaked through and her makeup is running, and her hand is on my shoulder.

"We need to go inside," she says to me softly.

I nod once and let her put her hands on my waist so that she can guide me back into the room. She follows me closely and always has at least one hand on my skin. She leads me to the bathroom and sits me down on the toilet. Carefully she removes my clothes and starts drying me off.

She needs to dry off too, but she doesn't. When she's done with me and I have fresh clothes on she leads me to another room in this small beach house. She takes me to the first floor and puts me on the couch. She says she doesn't trust me to be alone in the upstairs room anymore. There's a part of me that understands that.

I curl up on the couch and she throws a blanket over me. She says that my skin is ice cold, but I don't feel cold. I don't feel cold at all. I feel numb.

Sara walks in the front door carrying two grocery bags. She takes a look at Catherine and asks her why she's wet. Catherine takes a look at my unblinking eyes and I guess decides it doesn't matter what she says in front of me now—I'm not there to hear it. At least, that's what she must think.

"Melinda went out on the roof," she walks up to Sara and takes one of the bags away from her. "She was out there in the rain, curled up in a ball crying."

Sara takes the bag back from Catherine and lays both bags on the floor. "We should get you dried off." She reaches for Catherine but Catherine pulls away.

"She didn't know who I was, Sara." Catherine crosses her arms in front of her, tightly. "When I looked into her eyes, she didn't know who I was."

Sara looks at me but quickly looks away. "We should get you cleaned up." She reaches again for Catherine and this time Catherine lets her touch her. Sara unfolds her arms and pulls Catherine closer to her. "It's okay."

Catherine looks away from Sara and fixes her eyes on me. "What happened to her, Sara? What happened to her to make her like this?"

"My mother," Sara answers flatly.

Sara leads Catherine to the stairs and the last thing I hear before they are too far away from me to hear anything is Sara telling Catherine, "I did this to her. It should have been me."

I pull the blanket Catherine covered me up with further up my body. I'm starting to feel cold now. It was probably Catherine's intent for me to go to sleep, but I know that I won't sleep. I'm not tired.

Keeping the blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I get up off the couch and walk over to the forgotten grocery bags. I pick them up and head over to the small kitchen that is almost one with the living room. I put the bags on one of two counters available to me and start putting the supplies Sara got away.

When I'm finished with that I fill up the tea kettle with water and put it on the stove. I'm sure Catherine could use some warm tea. If she feels anything like I do, then she'll need it because the cold has seeped into her bones.

It doesn't take long for the kettle to start whistling. I start preparing the tea and together Catherine and Sara walk down the stairs. They look at me standing with the blanket wrapped around me and seem surprised.

"What are you doing?" Sara asks walking over to me. She moves the hot kettle further away from me and checks to make sure the stove is off. I guess I should expect this kind of treatment for a while.

"I'm making tea." I pull the kettle back to where it was. "I thought we all could use some." I give a slight smile. "We've all been out in the rain."

I don't think they find that funny. I don't think they find that funny at all, but that's okay because I don't really think it's that funny either. I don't know how I ended up this way. Before, I thought I was fine. I thought I had work to do, but I thought that I was fine.

Sara takes the kettle away from me and says, "Let me do this. You should be resting." I can't be trusted with hot tea. I can't be trusted to be in a room by myself. I can't be trusted to do anything these days. They don't trust me and I don't blame them. I don't trust myself. I don't trust myself to do anything.

Maybe that's why I don't mind so much that Sara's treating me like a three year old. It's probably for the best. So, I step out of the kitchen but don't go back to the sofa. I want to say something to Sara while my brain is still…well while my brain is still in the moment.

"You're right," I say looking directly at her. "This should have been you, but it's not. It's happening to me. So now you have to be my mother and make sure I survive, okay? Cause that's what you have to do for me to forgive you, and if we can't do that then you have to at least promise me that you'll survive and have your family without me. There's no point in all of us going crazy." I give another weak smile—one I know doesn't reach my eyes.

My mother doesn't bother to smile back at me. I guess she's not in the smiling mood. Sara looks like she wants to step closer to me, but she keeps her distance. "I promise you that you're going to make it. I owe you that much."

In the grand scheme of things, I'm really not sure if she owes me anything. I'm not sure if I owe her anything. Right now, at this specific moment, I don't know what it means to owe someone else anything at all.

"Why don't we all promise each other to do everything we can?" Catherine does step up to me and puts her hand on my back. She's been touching me a lot more lately. They both have. It almost seems like they're trying to hold onto me. It's like they're afraid of me disappearing.

I put my arm around Catherine's shoulders. I'm afraid of disappearing too. "Is that tea ready yet?" I ask Sara who hasn't done anything with the tea at all.

My question snaps her back to this moment and she starts up with the tea again. When she's finished she hands each of us a cup and we move over to the sofa. They sit on either side of me and we sit staring ahead at an old fireplace sipping our tea. I don't think we're in a comfortable silence; it seems more like a thoughtful one.

"I don't remember going out on the roof," I say for no specific reason.

"We know," Catherine pats my knee.

"Laura used to hit me with a belt," I take another sip of my tea. They don't say anything. "She'd tell me I was stupid for asking questions. She said I'd be better off not asking anything at all." I take another sip. The cup shakes in my hand. "She called me worthless and stupid so much that I started to believe it. She made me believe I'd be better as someone else."

Sara slowly reaches out and clasps my hand in hers. "She was good at making us believe we were lucky to have her, because no one else could possibly want us."

"Dad didn't care," I squeeze Sara's hand just a little bit tighter. "He said that whatever she said was true."

"He always said he loved us though," Sara picks up. "He said he loved us but didn't do anything to stop the pain."

"He always said to try harder." We say together.

Sara lays her cup on the floor and takes mine away from me and does the same with it. When she leans back up she pulls me closer to her and wraps me in her arms. "I'm sorry," she whispers into my ear. "You should have never gone through any of that."

I hear Catherine put her cup on the floor and see her move behind Sara. She pulls us both to her and wraps her arms around Sara. "Neither of you should have gone through that. No child should."

"Why can't I just forget?" I ask sinking down to Sara's chest. "I thought I forgot most of it, but it came back. Why can't I forget?"

"I wish we all could forget," Catherine replies. "I wish we all could live our lives and not have this haunt us."

"Well maybe tomorrow will be a more beautiful life," I burrow further into Sara's body. "Maybe tomorrow we'll find a way for all of us to be okay."

"Yeah," Sara runs her hand through my matted hair, "maybe tomorrow."

It's a wish that I'm not sure will make it past this moment. Already I feel another dark memory pushing itself into the light again. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter hoping that I can push it away just a little longer. I don't want to see it now. I don't want to remember right now. Please, just give me this one moment. Give me this one moment of being held in my parents' arms without fading away into the past. I just want this one thing that I can hold onto without having it become another moment where I remember something that doesn't need to be remembered.

I just want this one moment. Please. Please.

"You've come home late again," HER voice seeps into my ears. "Have you been messing with that boy again after I told you not to? Have you been with him?"

I tell her I haven't. I tell her I'm not interested in him. She doesn't believe me. I wish she'd believe me. As she pulls at my clothes and wrestles me to the ground, I wish she'd believe me.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

An empty room in an empty house. The walls are bare and if I look out the window. There's nothing outside of it, but it's time to go. It's time for me to get up off this bare wooden floor and to go away. I'm supposed to walk away and let the world start turning again. I'm supposed to go away and become a ghost to this place.

I stand up slowly and walk to the door of this empty room and put my hand on the knob. I turn it slightly then take another look over my shoulder. Behind me a picture fades into my vision. The figures start moving and they start talking.

The room changes into a hallway and I'm standing in the middle of it. A mass of teen flesh passes by me, brushing lightly against my shoulder. I'm back in middle school and I've seemed to have completely passed on ever having an awkward phase. I'm tall and I'm only a year away from high school. Everyone here knows me. I'm popular. That's supposed to mean something, right?

Invisible. That's what I really want to be. I don't want anyone to be able to see me. I want to walk down these halls and have no one know my name. I don't even want me to see me. They shouldn't even know I touched for a moment into their world.

Melinda isn't supposed to be seen, and I've made sure of that. It has to be someone else who is so popular. It's someone else reaching out to grab a passer-by's arm. I take her into a corner and some of her friends have bothered to follow. They all know me.

"You still interested in meeting up later?" My hand runs down the girl's arm and settles on her waist. It's not me doing this. Melinda could never do this. She's too afraid to do anything.

The girl's blue eyes look back at me. She's lost herself in me, but I don't think she even knows it. I bet she never thought she'd be interested in a girl like me or another girl at all. I bet she doesn't know why, but she can't say no to me. I'm too strong of an appeal to her. She wants attention from me. They all want attention from me.

None of them know Melinda.

"My parents are going out to dinner alone tonight." She tells me shyly.

I haven't thought about how I'm going to get out of the house tonight. Normally I don't think about those things. I always get out though. I've become an expert at lying to my mother. She taught me the game she plays so well that I wouldn't know how not to play it.

Maybe I'll tell mother that I have a study session tonight. Maybe I'll tell her that I'm staying at a friend's house. Maybe I'll tell her that I wish she were dead and that I'm going to plan her murder. I really like that last idea.

Mother is getting tired of me anyway. It's getting harder for her to get the energy to beat me. I guess she's been beating for too long. I'm taller than her now. I'm probably stronger too. Eventually she'll never be able to raise a hand to me again. I just might tear her arms off one by one and make her feel every last drop of my pain.

There's no point in praying for help from anyone else anymore. No one is going to help me. Even that weakling, Melinda can't help herself anymore. Daddy always told me to be better, and I did that. Every day I bury Melinda further and further down to a place she belongs. She can't survive out here.

I lean in closer to my capture. "I'll be there." My lips brush across her cheek and a blush rises in that spot soon after.

Some jerk happens to be walking by at the time and I hear him say something I don't like at all. "Dyke!" He hisses out.

I pull away from my future date and turn to face him. I don't recognize him so he must be new here. The people standing around him stand back, because they know who I am. They know what I've done in the past and they don't want to be a part of that.

"What's your name?" I ask, stepping closer to him.

He looks around him and I guess he's stupid enough to not realize he's got nobody in his corner. "Derek." He's also stupid enough to answer.

"Derek, you must be new here. My name is Mel and everyone here knows that I'll hurt you if you say something I don't like."

He doesn't know what to say. He's probably thirteen or fourteen years old, but he doesn't get leeway from me because of his age. "Stupid bitch." He's not articulate either.

Maybe I'm in a good mood today. Maybe I'll let some of his new friends fill him in on exactly who I am. Maybe that anger that lies on the surface of who I am won't rise up and flow over the edge of my control. Maybe Melinda can do something useful this time and rein back the anger.

Or maybe not.

I grab Derek by the throat and push him against the wall. He struggles against my grip, but he's not strong enough to break through. He's no match for what I've been put up against in the past. He doesn't know that I grew strong because I had to. I had to be strong to absorb the blows I got. I had to grow up to be bigger and stronger so that I could survive.

"I'm going to tell you this once, Derek," I slam his body against the wall again for effect. "Don't fuck with me." He looks scared. I squeeze my grip just a little and a part of me enjoys his pain. Melinda wants to let him go, but I don't think he knows what he needs to know yet.

"Let go," It's a voice in the back of my head. I don't listen. "Mel, please let go. Please." The voice is begging. I don't recognize it. It doesn't sound like anyone from school.

My grip loosens just a little.

"You need to let go, Mel." The voice is starting to sound frantic and I'm starting to recognize it. It's Catherine again. I'm holding Sara against the wall.

When I release my grip it's like that's the only thing that was holding me up. I crash to the floor. I don't bother to look back up. One look into Sara's eyes was enough for me to see she was scared of me. It was enough for me to see that I was killing her.

Legs move around me and I know Catherine is going to support Sara who's coughing harshly above me. I've never hurt her like that before. I didn't mean to hurt her. It was Derek, wasn't it? He was the one standing before me. He was the one I was supposed to teach a lesson.

It was him. It had to be him.

But that was a few years ago. I don't know Derek now. I have no clue what happened to him or that girl either. Her name was Jessica. I do remember her name. I remember going to her house when her parents had left. She was fun.

The coughing has stopped and no one has said anything.

I slowly get up off the floor and walk away from them. "You should have pushed me off," I say to Catherine. "You should have shot me if you had to."

I mean that. I mean it because I hate who I am. I hate who I became so that I could survive Laura. I hate that person so much. I want to kill her.

Ignorantly, stupidly, naively I thought that since my parents were dead she would die too. I thought I'd come live with my sister and be able to let that girl go. I thought she would become a shadow and fade into the background.

Whatever I do or wherever I am she pops up. She comes out and stays a while. She's the stronger one. "You should have killed me." I say this only because I mean it. I'm tired of this. We've been away for four days now and I'm not making any progress at all. Sure I have more moments where I know who I am and when I am, but shit like this still happens.

I lift my head fully and stare at Catherine. "I'm sure you wanted to hurt me," I taunt her. "You love Sara too much to see anyone hurt her and I know that includes me." I grin. "If it was a choice between the two of us I know who you'd pick." My grin fades. "I lose every time."

Catherine looks back at me her eyes narrow but she doesn't say anything to me. The truth isn't worth disputing.

"Melinda," Sara's strained voice warns me, "stop."

"If you don't have the courage to do it then I do." I run to the kitchen and pick up the nearest sharpest knife I can find. I know my biology. I know where to stab and make it real hard for anyone to try and revive me. I can't live like this anymore. I don't want to live like this anymore.

Both Catherine's and Sara's eyes widen in fear. "Melinda put down the knife," Catherine finally speaks. "Please."

I shake my head. "No. It's better if I'm not here. We all know that. How could you not?" My heart has started pounding and it hurts. My heart hurts so much.

Catherine's mouth opens and she says something but I don't hear her. I've got a knife sticking out of my chest. I aimed for my heart.

My body falls to the ground and it's funny but it doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would. I thought open wounds were supposed to be painful.

The world around me blurs and fades out. When I die I don't make a sound. I have no reason to scream.

"You're taking your time with those sandwiches," I feel a hand wrap around mine and take the knife away. "If we rely on you we all might starve." Sara gives me a weak smile and bumps me on my side.

I'm still in the beach house. I'm still standing. I'm supposed to be finishing these sandwiches I said I was going to prepare for lunch. I'm not dead. I didn't push Sara up against the wall and almost strangle her to death. That's never happened.

Derek really happened though. I know that really happened. He never bothered me again after that.

I step away from the counter I've been using to make the sandwiches and wipe at my face. Everything seemed so real. Could it really happen?

Sara turns to me, "What's wrong?" She puts down the knife and steps closer to me. "Did you have another flashback?"

Was it just a flashback? I don't know. I don't know what to tell her. I don't know what any of it means. Why does this have to be so hard? Why does it have to be that I suffer more than my mother ever did? Why is it that she got an easy death and I have to deal with this life?

I don't understand. I don't understand anything anymore.

"I saw what I did to Derek." What point is there in me hiding this from her now? "But Derek turned into you and I got angry at myself. I got so angry that I could do that. I stabbed myself in the heart to make it stop hurting." Sure I left a few gaps in the story, but I don't feel like repeating the entire thing.

Sara takes me into her arms and I hold onto her for all that I'm worth. I can think of only two places I can be in this world now and feel somewhat grounded.

"I used to cut myself," I whisper over her shoulder. "I did it so that I could see how much pain my body could take. It was never enough, because when she hit me it always hurt."

"I know," she rubs my back and Catherine walks into the kitchen. She doesn't say anything. She only puts her hand on my back.

Sara asks me about Derek and I tell her the story. I don't see what difference it makes now.

When I'm done Catherine looks at me and says softly, "Maybe tomorrow will be better." That's what we say on all my bad days now. "Tomorrow will be better."


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

I haven't fallen into a flashback at all today, and I think I'd call that progress. I'm not an expert or anything, but it has to be progress right? It has to be something good because I'm really tired of all the bad. This whole flashback thing has to end sometime. There's only so much I can remember, isn't there? I mean, how many memories can I have in a time span of sixteen years that I don't want to remember?

So without the memories invading my mind, I finally have time to enjoy being out of the desert and back home to the ocean. I can finally enjoy being out in the sun walking along the beach. This is something I'd normally do alone, but Sara and Catherine are attached to me wherever I go these days. They're not even letting me sleep alone anymore.

Since I had that whole flashback and had that weird thing with me killing myself, they don't give me much space. They also give me blunt objects to use for everything. I think using a fork at this point is really pushing it with them. They don't even take shifts anymore for watching me. I get both of them all of the time.

That might mean something to me if I wasn't stuck most of the time lost in a torturous oblivion. Sadly, it might be necessary that they both be around. I'm a big girl. I'm a strong girl. If I did something…if I went after one of them…if something happened then it just might take both of them to control me. We all know that sometimes it's really difficult for me to control myself.

Well at least they're staying a few feet behind me. Maybe they're trying not to be too suffocating, though I'm not too sure that I don't need to be suffocated by them right now. I know that if I had ended up in a hospital then I'd be tied down at the very least. I'd probably be drugged out of my mind too. They'd induce their own oblivion so that I wouldn't have to live through mine.

Maybe that's what I should have done. Maybe Catherine was right. Professional medical help is always supposed to be the right thing, isn't it? Doctors can do no wrong?

Funny thing is though, every time I went to the hospital after Laura had given me a good smashing they always sent me back with her. The doctors knew shit. They saw me and thought they knew my life story. I was a rough and tumbled kid bound to get a few scraps here and there. There was no possible way that my mother could be the one beating the shit out of me, that didn't fit into their world. I guess it would require too much of their time to investigate all the scars.

And I do have plenty of scars on my body. I don't even remember how I got them all. That's what I'm flashing back to these days, I guess. Something inside of me is forcing me to remember every little thing that happened to me so that I can go completely crazy.

I can't help but think, just a little bit, that maybe there's something that I really do need to remember. I don't know what it is and I'm afraid of what it might be. If my brain has done so much to not remember, why would I possibly want to remember it now?

It's not a fully conscious decision, but I stop walking and turn towards the water. I look out over the waves and remember how I used to escape to the beach. I never took anyone else with me.

One time, I took some pen and paper out here with me and I wrote a letter out to my sister. I told her that I needed help. I told her that she needed to come and save me now because Mom and Dad had gotten worse. When they found out that I was good in school, they decided that they wanted to beat the smart out of me. I wrote her telling her that I didn't think it was possible. I carefully wrote out our address again just in case she had forgotten. I put a number she could reach me at on it too, just in case she didn't have it.

Instead of sealing the message in an envelope I put it in a bottle. I thought that since she never answered any of the letters I sent, then maybe this message would find her. Or maybe this message would be found by my real family. It would be found by the people that were supposed to be my parents and supposed to be my siblings. They would find the message and then they would find me.

Catherine and Sara come up next to me and stand on either side of my body. They're waiting for something from me, I can tell. They could want another profound confession from me. They could want another story from me about how my childhood really did suck.

"You never answered the letters I sent you," I say out to the ocean. "You never sent me anything back. Did you ever get them at all?"

We all have to know that I'm not talking to Catherine. I didn't even know she existed until I reunited with my long lost sister.

Sara takes a step away from me, but I pretend not to notice. "I was afraid to open them." She answers to the wind softly. "I was afraid to find out how your life was. I knew I couldn't handle it."

On a measure of good excuses that's a really bad one. I can't even answer that. I can't even try to answer that.

"When you first came to stay with me," her words falter, "I brought out that box of letters I kept and I read through them all. I wish I had read them sooner." Her last sentence is almost too soft for me to hear it.

I turn to face her. "If you had what would you have done?"

"I would have taken you away from there." She sounds sure in her answer but I don't believe it. I think she would have left me there anyway.

"From what I understand you drank too much and weren't very emotionally stable." I turn back to the ocean. "That's what you've been telling me since I came to you." I look down and push some sand around with my bare feet. "So would you have really come?"

She doesn't answer. "You know what I think you might have done," I keep focused on my feet. "I think you would have drunk some more to try and forget that a girl named Melinda ever existed."

I'm not looking at Sara, but I can feel that she wants to say something to me. She wants to tell me that I'm wrong, I bet. She wants to tell me that I've got the whole thing messed up in my head. She wants to tell me that she wouldn't have left me there. But…she doesn't say anything and I know why.

"Let's follow the evidence," I raise my head and take a quick look at both Sara who can't hold my gaze and at Catherine who can't look at either of us. "That is what the two of you do, right? So let's follow that." I shift my stance so that I'm not putting as much pressure on my still aching foot. "You left me with your parents, Sara." I shouldn't call her mom now. It doesn't feel appropriate. "You left me with them knowing what they did to you and you say you thought it would be different, but you don't' really believe that. You say you got kicked out and I know that's the truth, but you wanted to leave anyway. After living with them anyone would want to save themselves first."

Sara still doesn't say anything. Catherine doesn't either. "So you leave but you get this gnawing feeling in your gut that it wasn't the best thing to do. You try ignoring it but it doesn't go away. So you carry it with you and you try to drown it out with alcohol. You can't drown it out completely, because it's always there under the surface so you take this job with the CSI so that you can protect the people that couldn't or can't protect themselves. You fight so hard to save them because the person you really need to save you still don't have the courage to face." I turn back to Sara. "Am I wrong?"

"Melinda," Sara starts but doesn't finish. I'm not wrong.

"When I first came to you," I keep my eyes on her this time. "I didn't understand anything. I didn't know hardly anything at all. I had only one goal in my life and that was to get away from this family. I didn't want to have a sister and I didn't want to have this family at all. I thought I'd act how I needed to so that I could survive until I was eighteen. I was going to get a full ride with this scholarship and I was going to run away and never look back. I was going to try and do the same exact thing you did."

"I'm sure you would have done it better," she says. "You've always been stronger than me."

I shrug. "I never was stronger. I think I was angrier, though. I hit a lot more people than you did."

"I wouldn't bet on it," Catherine says gently from behind me.

I raise my brow and turn to face her. "For real?"

Catherine nods. "We always argued at first, mostly over trying to get her to follow the rules and rein in her temper."

I smile briefly holding that one thing that Catherine has given me in my mind. I don't know why it's so important to me, but it is. My smile fades pretty quickly though and I turn to face the water once again. "There's something inside of me trying to get out." I say through a labored sigh. "I don't know what and I don't think that if I was alone that I could handle it. I'm glad I have this family now."

There might have been a point to me talking all this much after all.

Sara gets some courage from somewhere and puts her arm around my waist. "I'm glad I've got this family too and it's a whole lot better since you became a part of it."

"And whatever it is trying to get out," Catherine puts her hand on my shoulder and I turn to look at her, "we can handle it."

We stand there together watching the ocean then eventually the breeze gets too cold for us and we walk back to the house. Catherine starts moving around in the kitchen, preparing food, I think and Sara and I sit together on the sofa. There's nothing for either of us to do really. If there's more than one person in that small kitchen then nothing would ever get done. The space is too small.

I'm sitting back on the sofa, trying not to think about anything at all. It's been a better day today and I don't want to risk that by thinking too much.

"Do you still hate me?" Sara asks me softly. I wonder how long she's wanted to ask me that. "I would understand if you do. You should. I do."

I slowly nod my head. "Yeah, a part of me does." There's no point in lying about it. We get along better these days and I think I act better towards her, but everything isn't just forgotten. I know everything isn't forgiven. "The more I understand about all that happened the harder it gets for me to keep it up, though. I think it's getting harder and harder for me to say that I would have done it differently. I don't have righteous indignation anymore."

"But that doesn't mean that the choices I made weren't up to me." Does she want me to hate her?

"That's true and I probably won't ever forget that, but I'm also really tired of hating right now. It doesn't make sense to hate the person that means the most to me anymore." That might have been an over-share. I really am going completely crazy.

My mom reaches over and takes my hand, but doesn't say anything. I take a quick glance over my shoulder at Catherine and she doesn't even bother to try and hide the fact she was listening in on our conversation. I give her a brief smile and turn back to Sara.

"You should burn those letters I wrote. They won't do either of us any good anymore."

"I'll think about it," Sara answers me but I don't think she's going to burn them ever. If I know her just a little, then I know she's going to hold onto them for a very long time and let them be part of her self-torture.

The part of me that still hates her, the part of me that's still alive and not dying quietly at all, wants her to read them every night and cry. That part of me wants her to never be able to get over those letters that she didn't bother to read until they were old, dusty and useless. That part of me wants that to be part of the punishment she deserves.

As a matter of fact, I start thinking about the punishment and I feel myself slipping away again. I feel that other part start to take over again. The one that was able to survive everything by being someone who loved violence, thrilled in other people's pain, and didn't care about the scars on my body.

But tonight, she will not take over. Tonight she will not be a part of my life. I don't need her to survive anymore. I don't need the protection she offered me. I don't want it. Tonight I will have dinner with my parents. Tonight I will be myself again.

I can't afford to be anyone else anymore.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

"_Whatever it is hurting you, I won't let it anymore. I promise you're safe with me." _

The day my parents died. I stayed the day with a girl I had met at a party. She was nineteen when we met and knew how old I was. I told her the truth. She was the only one that knew the truth about me.

I stayed the night with her because I couldn't go back home. Mother had found out that I had more than a passing interest in some of the girls I was around. Mother was out to break me. She had come at me with a knife, a favorite act for hers, and slashed up my forearm.

"_Baby, shh. Settle down now. I have to take care of your arm." _

Mother never stopped slashing at me. I dodged the knife until I reached the front door. She told me not to go. She'd told me that if I ever came back she'd kill me. I believed her. If I came back I knew I was dead then. I knew that I was dead, and I wasn't ready to be dead yet not after everything I had all managed to survive through.

"_Do you think you need to go to the hospital? Does it hurt bad enough?" _

She started to run after me as soon as I left the house, but she didn't follow me for long. She wouldn't bring our family business out onto the front lawn. Too many people could see her yelling at me telling me that she was going to kill me. Too many people would be able to see who she was behind the closed door.

"_Melinda, talk to me. You have to let me know what's going on." _

Mother lowered the knife and gave me a look I had never seen from her before. She looked defeated. She looked as if I had won, but what I had I won? What had I won by running away from her yet again? In my mind, I thought I lost. I was forced out of the house and I was going to be forced out on the street to fend for myself. I had no money on me and clothes I was wearing were dirty and bloodied. No matter what I tried to do Mother would always win.

"_What happened tonight?"_

Something wasn't right about that. Something wasn't acceptable about Mother always winning and me always losing. It wasn't okay with me anymore. I had told her to leave me alone before. I told her that if she laid a hand on me ever again then I would fight back. I didn't stay to my word. But I wasn't gone yet.

"_You need to talk about it, Melinda." _

She wasn't going to win, not today. I could feel the blood dripping down my arm and the loss of it was starting to make me a little dizzy, but I wasn't going to run away. I wasn't going to let her kick me out. I was going to stay to my word. I was going to fight back and I was going to prove to her that she could no longer beat me. I was the strong one, now. I was the better one.

"_I want to help you." _

I went back into the house. Mother wasn't expecting me to follow her back into the house. She started yelling at me and I wasn't going to take that from her anymore. I told her as much. I told her to shut up. She waved the knife at me again, but she didn't stab at me. There was something in me that I knew she should be afraid of and she knew it too.

For the life of me I can't remember what happened after I went back into the house. I don't know how I made it to Nikki's before I passed out from blood loss. When I showed up at her apartment I had a towel wrapped around my arm, I must have put it there. I don't remember that.

There's a lot about that day that I don't remember, but now I remember where I got that jagged scar on my forearm from. Staring at it long enough forced me to remember at least that much. I bet Nikki knows the rest. I bet I told her because I told her everything. There's not a lot I did without her knowing about it.

I sit up in bed and realize Sara and Catherine are asleep on the floor next to me. I told them they could have the bed, but I guess they wanted me to get it on account of my 'condition' and all. It doesn't matter now. I'm not going to stay in bed all night.

As carefully as I can, I swing my legs over the side of the bed that Catherine and Sara aren't sleeping near. My feet reach the floor and I almost gasp from the chill of the wood. It gets cold here at night, which is unfortunate right now because all I'm wearing is a pair orange boxers with monkeys on them and a black tank top.

With hardly making any sound at all I reach the bedroom door and carefully open it. That wakes Catherine up. I can see her sit up on their makeshift bed. She climbs over Sara, who remains fast asleep and walks over to me. We meet out in the hallway.

"What are you doing up?" She crosses her arms in front of her. "Are you okay?"

The way I see it, I don't have a lot of options here. I can either tell her that I'm on my way to the bathroom—if I did that, I'm sure she'd follow me there and wait until I was done—or I could tell her that I couldn't sleep and see if she leaves me alone or falls asleep eventually.

It's important I get out of this house. Catherine will probably never leave me alone. She might even wake Sara up.

I need to get out of this house. I need to know what happened that day.

I bow my head and know that I'm going to have some very deep regrets about tonight. "I'm sorry Catherine." I tell her truly regretful. "I know you said we could all handle what it is I might remember, but I don't really think that you all can."

Catherine looks at me confused. Her blue eyes find the dim light in this hallway and a fire erupts there. She takes a step away from me. "What are you—" Before she can finish her question I reach out and with one hand grab her wrists and with the other cover her mouth. She doesn't have time to scream.

She struggles against me but she's not strong enough to break my grip. A part of me wishes that she were strong enough. Then I wouldn't have to stop her breathing so that she'll pass out and so that I can leave. My grip on her is awkward since I still have that cast on my left arm. Maybe Sara will wake up and stop me. Maybe I'll stop myself.

Sara doesn't wake up and Catherine never breaks my grip. I only held her long enough so that she'd pass out. I really didn't want to hurt her. I'm sorry that she even caught me leaving the bedroom. I gather Catherine's unconscious form in my arms and carry her downstairs. I put her on the sofa and make sure she's comfortable.

She gets one more, "I'm sorry" from me then I get the car keys and walk out the front door. I don't start up the engine but put the car in neutral and push it out of the driveway and as far away from the house as I can before I start to feel like my muscles are going to stop working.

I'm not exactly sure where Sara has stashed us, but it has to be close to home. When I reach the main rode I see a sign telling me all I need to know. I'm going in the right direction and I'm not that far away from where I need to go.

The adrenaline in my body eventually stops pumping so hard and a wave of fatigue hits me. It's late at night and I don't remember the last time I got a full night's rest. Sara and Catherine should be used to me not sleeping through the entire night these days.

My body finally fully catches up to my actions and I feel the chill running through me. I turn up the heat on the car as much as I can. I didn't bother to put on shoes or a jacket. I'm still wearing boxers and a tank top. I didn't think of getting other clothes or trying to find something to cover myself with. I was too concerned with making sure Catherine was okay. I really didn't want to hurt her, but I have to do this alone.

She can't come with me. What if I really did something bad to Laura? What if I did something that was just so bad?

I don't know that I couldn't. I don't know that I wouldn't.

All the thoughts running through my head occupy me for the entire ride. Before I know it, I'm parked in front of an apartment complex and it's almost an hour and a half later. It's one-thirty in the morning and all I can hope is that Nikki lives in the same place.

Eventually I gather my courage and open the car door. I walk to an apartment with the numbers 903 and knock softly. Someone I don't recognize answers the door. She looks me over and asks, "What do you want?"

I think she's trying to intimidate me, but not a whole lot intimidates me these days. I've seen scarier things than a woman with a tough build and a few tattoos. I've seen scarier things looking back at me in the mirror. "Is Nikki here?"

"What do you want with Nikki?" She blocks the doorway and at least now I know that I have the right place.

"I need to talk to Nikki," I cross my arms in front of me, the chill starting to invade my body again. Maybe Nikki can give me something more to wear.

"It's late. She has to work in the morning." I don't think this woman trusts me. I'm not sure I would trust me in this same situation.

"Who's at the fucking door?" I hear Nikki's voice call from the inside of the apartment.

I look past the woman, but don't see anything. "Tell her Melinda is here, please." I uncross my arms and shift my stance so that I have more balance. "I really need to talk to Nikki." My voice drops and something in me must speak to this woman because she takes a step away from me.

Nikki being the impatient type walks to the door herself when she doesn't get an answer to her question. When she sees me standing outside she pushes the woman in front of me away. "Melinda?" She reaches out and pulls me into the apartment. "What have you done to yourself? I thought you were living with your sister in Vegas?"

"I am," I answer letting Nikki lead me further into the apartment. "Or at least I was."

"You're freezing, Melinda. Why the hell are you dressed like that?" She gathers me in her arms and hugs me, providing me with a little bit of body heat.

The woman now behind me clears her throat loudly. "You actually know her?" She sounds angry.

"Sandi, it's time you go home." Nikki tells her not loosening her grip on me.

"Are you serious?" The woman asks surprised.

"Leave." Nikki's voice is even and I know that she's not about to budge on the issue. "And don't call me."

The door slams shut and then Nikki releases me. "Now tell me what's going on." Nikki leads me to her couch and throws the blanket on it over me.

I put my right arm in her lap, the one that has the new scar. "Do you remember this?"

Nikki takes my arm and takes a good look at my arm. "It healed up better than I thought it would. We probably should have gotten you some stitches."

"What happened that day?" I ask not sounding at all like myself. "I don't remember what happened."

"Oh Sweetie," She runs her fingers over my scar. "Are you happy with your sister?"

I nod. "Turns out my sister wasn't my sister though. It's a long story but she's my mom."

Nikki lets out a half laugh and grins. "No shit?"

"No shit."

"Well isn't that something? I think a revelation like that deserves a single phone call at least."

"I've been busy. I'm sorry I didn't—"

"—forget about it, Melinda. I knew things would change when you moved away."

"So you remember that day?"

Nikki's fingers move from my scar to my cheek. "The question is: do you really want to remember? If your brain isn't letting you remember there must be a reason for that?"

I look as deeply as I can into Nikki's achingly familiar green eyes. I try to find an answer in them, but she gives nothing away. "I've had a real hard time lately." I admit. "Weird things have been surfacing and—"

"—Sweetie, maybe you should let it come to you on its own. I'm sure there's a lot of stuff fighting to get out."

Only with Nikki do I act this way, vulnerable. She's the only one that gets to see me without a barrier up. I met her when I was thirteen. She spotted me at some high school party and immediately she knew what I was about. She knew everything about me and she told me as much. Nikki said she knew me because she was going through the same thing. I think she ended up going a little bit crazy too.

"I don't want to wait," I reach up and hold the hand to my cheek in place. "I don't want to go completely crazy before I remember."

"How did you get here?" She drops her hand and my hand with it from my cheek. "Did you tell your 'mom' where you were going? She's probably really worried about you."

My eyes fall from hers. "I ran away."

Nikki gets up and walks to her phone. "What's her number?"

I jump from the couch and would have ripped the phone from her hands if she hadn't pinned me with a daring look before I reached her. "What's her number?" She repeats slowly.

"I don't want her here. I don't want either of them here. If it's bad they can't know. They're cops, Nikki." Maybe that last part will scare her enough so that she'll put down the phone.

"Her number?"

It's Nikki and since it's Nikki I give away the number. I even give the right number. I give away the cell number. Then I walk back to the sofa and only hear the one side of the conversation.

"Hello is this Sara Sidle and are you missing a daughter? I'm a friend of hers. She decided to drop by and tell me hello tonight. She's fine and she's not lost in some stupor if that's what you're worried about. No, I'm sorry I can't tell you where she is but I'm calling to tell you that she's relatively okay. Well if you're the police like she says then you can trace this number and find out where she is, but personally I think you should give her some time. I'll take care of her, promise."

She hangs up and I'm left wondering what all Sara said. Did she say something about me attacking Catherine? Does she want to find me so that she can kill me?

"Don't look so paranoid." Nikki chastises me. "Your mom is afraid, Melinda. She probably thinks you went off to kill yourself or something crazy like that."

"I made Catherine pass out because she caught me leaving the room," I confess.

"I guess it was Catherine yelling in the background then." Nikki runs a hand through her long brown hair. "She sounded worried too."

"I didn't want to hurt her."

Nikki gives me a strange look then shakes her head. "I think you've changed."

My brow scrunches. "What does that mean?"

She walks up to me and lifts my chin up so that I meet her eyes. "I can see Melinda again. It's good to see."

"So," I don't move in her grip. "Are you going to tell me about that day? Are you going to tell me if I killed Laura?"

That is what I came for. That is what I need to know, it's what I'm trying to remember.

"Sweetie," Nikki sighs heavily and that's all the answer I need.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

"Why don't we go lay down for a while," Nikki runs her hand over my thigh. "I'm sure your mother will find us soon."

"I took her car," The statement comes out of my mouth unbidden. "They didn't have another one there."

Nikki stands up and pulls me up with her. "That means you have time to rest."

I don't say anything. I let her lead me to her bedroom and lay me down on her bed. She pulls the covers over me then slides in on the other side. She wraps her arms across my body and pulls me closer to her. "You shouldn't think about it too much, Melinda." She leans over and says in my ear. "At some point you deserve to have a life of your own."

It's easy to hear what she's saying but it doesn't make much sense to me at the moment. "I still can't remember what happened," I say softly.

"You'll remember when you're ready to. For now you need to sleep." Nikki places a soft kiss on my cheek then pulls away from me.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I know what happened now, but I don't remember it. How could I not remember it?

I take another deep breath and try to find some comfort in this moment. This isn't the first time I've stayed with Nikki. She wanted me to move in with her, when she finally got her own place. She wanted to take me away from everything that was going on at home. She's the only one that ever wanted to save me from them. The only one that said she was willing to risk everything to help me out.

Unfortunately, I was too afraid to leave. If I left, I was sure that Nikki would get in trouble for housing a runaway and then I wouldn't even have her anymore. For certain I knew that Laura would find me and drag me back. I was absolutely convinced she would never let me go; she would never let me lead a life of my own. Laura was going to hold onto to me until she squeezed every last drop of life out of me then she'd push me out into the world and tell me to deal with it.

My eyes are still closed but I'm nowhere close to sleep. My body is probably tired and ready for some rest, but my mind isn't ready at all. There's no way I can sleep without remembering. I want to know exactly what happened, and Nikki isn't going to tell me now. I know she won't tell me.

"You're not going to sleep are you," Nikki says softly into the darkness. "You can't give yourself the time you have left to relax."

I sit up and the arm that was around my torso falls to my waist. "What do you mean 'the time I have left'?"

Nikki sits up too and her arm glides off my body. "The time you have left here before you have to go back to your mom and face what it is that happened that day."

"What if I don't want to go back?" I seek out Nikki's eyes in the darkness but can't find them. All I see is her silhouette. "What if I want to stay here?"

I hear Nikki sigh and her hand finds my arm. "Then you stay here, but it's probably best you go back."

"It'd probably be best if I had never been born."

"Then we would have never met and I'd be alone." Nikki admits softly. "I would have never survived being alone, Melinda. Every time I've been there for you, you've been there for me."

Reaching out blindly I find Nikki's body and pull her closer to me. We've never been just about friendship. We've never been just about a kindred spirit in the big wide world. We've been about everything a person can be to another. We've been carrying each other's heart and soul along making sure that it doesn't completely disintegrate into something unrecognizable.

It's funny really, because we don't call each other. We don't write each other. We don't talk all the time and we don't know every detail of each other's lives, but we've never lost what we found when we first met.

So now holding her in my arms I want her to be the one to tell me before I can remember, before my body forces me to remember, "What happened that day?"

Nikki puts her arms around me. "You got caught, Melinda. You started taking too many risks, thinking that you could actually control Laura. You got cocky and thought she wouldn't find out what had been going on with Shani. You should have never gotten yourself involved with her y'know? Especially since you knew how her parents already felt about you."

I can't help but smile. Shani's father was so pissed when he found me in his daughter's bed I thought his head was going to explode. It's a real shame he ended up calling Laura though. That's why she went after me with the knife. She yelled about rather having me dead then ending up like my whore of a mother. At least the statement makes more sense now.

"When you got home Laura was waiting for you," Nikki's words make my smile fade. "You said the minute you walked in the door you knew something bad was going to happen. You said you knew that this time she might actually succeed in killing you."

I remember that too. I remember walking through that door and knowing that I should just turn around and never go near it again. Something inside me was telling me to run away and forget that I had ever lived in that place at all. Stupid me, I walked in anyway and stood in front of her and dared her to get up and attack me.

"You say she had the knife in her hand when you came in, but you didn't see it until you were too close. That's how she was able to get the first cut."

The first?

"She cut into your shoulder, but she didn't cut as deeply as on your arm. I still think you should have gone to the hospital for that. Didn't your sister say anything to you about that recent cut on your arm when she picked you up to take you to your new home?"

"We didn't talk a lot then," I answer looking almost through my shirt to the scar I know is on my right shoulder.

"That's changed?"

"A little."

Nikki makes an unintelligible sound as a response then continues on with what she was saying before. "You told me she cut you four times before you ran out of the house."

"Where were the cuts?" I ask hesitantly.

"Your arm," Nikki takes my arm and traces my scar. "Your shoulder," she moves her hand and strokes my shoulder. "Your thigh," her hand slides down to my left thigh. "And right here," her hand moves again and stops right at my heart. "This was just a flesh wound."

I lift my own hand and put it to my heart covering Nikki's hand with my own. My heart is beating a lot more softly than I thought it would be. The way I figure, I should be in near hysterics now. All I remember is the cut on my arm. I don't remember the others but I've stared at the scars.

"When you ran out of the house you told me you weren't going to go back in at first," Nikki continues. "Then you said she looked you in the eyes and it made you angry. She made you so angry that you decided to go back into the house to tell her that she didn't win. You wanted to show her that you weren't weak anymore, that she couldn't hurt you like that and get away with it. Everyone else might have let her get away with it, but you weren't going to anymore."

"And then I ended up killing her?" I ask softly not sure if I really want Nikki to answer. "Because I don't remember that part at all."

"No," I can barely see Nikki shake her head in the darkness. "You didn't go in there to do that. You told her that she couldn't treat you like that and that you couldn't let her get away with it. You told her you were going to file assault charges against her and make sure that the police knew everything she had ever done to you."

"I bet she didn't like that."

"Not at all. She went after you with the knife again, but this time you didn't stay on the defensive. Those were your exact words by the way. You told me you didn't stay on the defensive because you were afraid she would kill you this time. When she went at you with the knife you grabbed her wrist and hit her in the head." Nikki's hand drops from my heart to my left fist, part of which is still in a cast. "You didn't pull your punch. You used all your strength and she dropped to the floor. You say she was breathing when you left the house."

"I remember going back to the house with you and getting the message on the machine from the hospital." I remember that clearly.

"Your blood was still on the floor when we went back," Nikki tells me. "You thought it was weird that she hadn't cleaned it up yet. You took it as a sign that you actually did kill her."

"I went to the hospital alone," I remember that too.

"Because I wanted to stay behind and clean up the blood just in case." Nikki admits.

"When I got there they told me that my father had died, but that my mother was in a coma. She said she was brain dead or something. She suffered head trauma in the accident." The doctors told me that. They said she hit her head when she was in the accident.

"You noticed something weird about that though, didn't you? You told me about it when you came back home."

My eyes start jumping around the room and I know I'm searching for something. The memory is right there in front of me, I can almost reach it. "They hit the barrier on the driver's side. She was in the passenger's seat. That part of the car wasn't in that bad of shape. Her head injury was on the right side of her head."

"That's right," Nikki tells me gently. "The rest of that side of her body didn't have a bruise on it and when I was cleaning I found a note your father left for you." Nikki removes herself from my hold and swings off of the bed. She turns on a lamp next to her bed and reaches in her nightstand and pulls out a piece of paper.

Slowly she hands it over to me.

"Why didn't you give this to me when I got back from the hospital?" I ask as I take it, the paper feeling rough in my grip.

Nikki carefully takes a seat back on the bed. "Because you had already forgotten. I thought there was a chance of you never remembering and I wasn't going to force it. I thought it best you never remembered."

I open up the folded paper and I can see that there are words on it, but it's like I've forgotten how to read. I can't make anything out. My hands are shaking and I know that I probably don't want to be able to read whatever is on this paper.

Nikki reaches over and takes the paper from me. "You remembered anyway, though, so my plan didn't work." She lifts the paper up and starts reading it, "Melinda, when I got home I found your mother on the floor. She's breathing but not responding to me. I see the blood with it and I can only imagine what happened. I'm taking your mother to the hospital and I hope you get a chance to read this and hope she wasn't able to hurt you too much. You're a big girl and I know you can take care of yourself now. You should know that as far as I'm concerned your mother tripped when she was mopping the kitchen floor." She lowers the paper and looks back at me. "It's signed by your father."

"Oh." Dad was always really good at pretending like the obvious didn't happen. He never said anything when Laura came after me and wasn't going to say anything about—

There's a knock on the door and I bet I know who it is. I don't feel like talking right now. "I'm going to the bathroom." I feel a little sick.

I walk to the bathroom not bothering to look back at Nikki. I lock the door behind me and sit down on the floor right in front of the door. I have no idea what to do.

Nikki answers the door and Sara's and Catherine's voice fill up the apartment. They tackle Nikki with their questions, but I know Nikki can handle them. She can at least handle them for now.

"She's in the bathroom," she tells them. "She's not doing too well."

"And you left her alone in there?" Catherine asks. "She might kill herself."

I hadn't thought about that, but I guess it is an option.

"I don't think she will," Nikki hurries to tell them. "I think she needs some space."

"She can't have space," Sara yells. "She's dying in her own space."

I'm not sure that made any sense, but a whole lot doesn't make sense these days. I curl up against the door and close my eyes.

"I just told her about her—well her grandmother." Nikki tells them calmly. "Believe me, she needs time."

"What about her grandmother?" Catherine asks almost as calmly. "What did you tell her?"

I can imagine Catherine advancing dangerously towards Nikki, but Nikki will hold her ground. She won't let Catherine intimidate her.

"I told her the truth," Nikki's voice is starting to shake. I guess the two of them might be too much for her. "And that's not for me to share again."

"Melinda!" Sara calls out to me. She sounds like she's right behind the door. "You need to open the door okay?"

No I don't.

"I told you to give her time," Nikki sounds like she's right behind the door too now.

"If we gave her time this past week she would have been dead by now," Catherine says angrily. "Do you have a key to this door?"

The pounding on the door scares me and I jump away from it. My back hits the front of the tub and the porcelain is cool to the touch. When the blade first cut my shoulder it was cold too. That's what I remember about being cut the most. I was surprised by how cold the blade was.

I had heard about searing hot pain, but it wasn't hot. It was cold. It all felt so cold. That's the way I felt when I went back into the house too. I was cold.

When I looked back at Laura it was cold. "This is the last time," I said. "It stops here because if it happens again you'll lose."

She laughed. "What are you going to do? You're worthless. No one will ever listen to you because you're too stupid."

"You've given me too many scars for them to not listen." I held up my arm to show her the blood running down my arm. "They don't ignore things like this."

"You don't think they'll help you, do you? You don't think they'll be able to keep me away forever?" Her voice was hate. Her voice and her words were nothing but hatred.

"I'm going to the police. You might want to cross the border before I get back." I turned my back on her because I wanted to show her that she didn't matter to me anymore.

I could feel her coming after me before I saw it. She was going to stab me in the back. I stepped out of the way just in time and her momentum threw her to the floor. I watched her land and moved away from her. I didn't want her to be able to reach me.

She cursed my name and got back up. "I'm going to kill you this time." She smiled as she said it. "I should have done it when you were a baby. That way you wouldn't have wasted so much of my time."

She lunged at me again, but I didn't dodge her this time. I wasn't going to stay on the defensive. I wasn't going to always be the one to run away.

It was a quick motion really. I grabbed her swinging arm with my right hand and hit her with my left fist. I put everything I had into that punch because I didn't want her to get up again. I didn't want her to be able to attack me again because the blood running down my cuts was starting to be a problem. My vision had started blurring and I don't know if I could have bested her in another attack.

Her body fell to the floor right next to my feet. Her fingers uncurled from the knife and I kicked it away. I stood over her looking down at her and even then I didn't know what to feel.

Eventually my brain kicked in and told me that I needed to leave and get help, but since I did hit back I knew I could get in trouble. I knew that if anyone found out about this then that scholarship I was aiming for would never appear. If anyone found out then I'd be stuck with being a Sidle forever. I might end up in jail. I might be the one punished after everything that they had done to me. My freedom would be taken because of her.

So I went to Nikki. I went to Nikki knowing that my father would keep silent. Even if he found her dead he would come up with one of the famous Sidle excuses.

Then I went and forgot it all so no one would remember, except Nikki. I even sort of forgot about her, just to make it all that much easier.

So hey, "Look Ma," I don't know how it happened but Sara and Catherine are now leaning over me and there's blood covering my hands. "I'm a murderer."


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

It takes me a lot of effort to open my eyes, but eventually I accomplish the small task. My arms feel weird and I quickly realize it's because my arms are strapped down to a hospital bed. There are red rings on both my wrists. I guess I've been struggling to break free.

When I finally look past my own body out into the room I see Nikki sitting next to me. I'm surprised to see her there. Then again, I'm surprised to see myself here. I don't know why I'm strapped down to a hospital bed, but I bet Nikki does.

"Boo," my voice is weak and I'm not even sure I got any sound out but I must have because Nikki's head lifts and she puts her hand on my strapped wrist.

"Hey," her voice almost sounds as weak as mine.

"So, I'm strapped to a hospital bed." It's all I can think of to say in this moment. My memory is foggy and I'm not quite sure what I'm doing here in the first place. Things seem a little misplaced. It's like my brain is trying to tell the other part of my brain something but the part that isn't listening really doesn't want to listen.

I wonder what kind of pain meds they've got me on. I think they have me on too much of it, whatever it is.

Nikki clears her throat, "You've been having a rough time."

Well that's an abnormally vague answer coming from her. "How long have I been here?"

Nikki takes a look around but her eyes quickly focus on me again. "Four days."

"Really?" Four days? That's a long time. I don't think I've ever stayed in a hospital longer than a day.

Nikki nods but otherwise remains silent. I'm not used to her being this quiet. Something big must have happened.

"Do me a favor Nik," I try moving my arms but find out how tight the straps really are. "Just tell me what's going on."

She looks down and settles her gaze on the bed. I'd look over to see what she's looking at but my motion is limited at the moment.

"Do you remember coming to my apartment?"

And that's all she needs to ask for the fog to disappear.

I don't remember doing it, but somehow I had managed to slice my hands open with a razor before Sara decided to kick open the door to Nikki's bathroom.

Sara got a couple of towels and wrapped them around my hands. Catherine pulled out her cell phone and called an ambulance. Neither of them panicked at all. They knew exactly what to do and worked together in perfect synchronization. I remember noticing that as they tended to each of my hands.

It didn't take long for the ambulance to arrive. The paramedics rewrapped my hands and took me to the hospital. They also stuck an IV into my arm.

I'm pretty sure I passed out on the way to the hospital. The cuts on my hands were deep. They needed more than stitches. I think I remember someone telling me that I had to go to surgery.

I woke up in the ICU. That's what I remember the most. I didn't know where I was and I didn't know what was going on. I tore out my IV and ripped at my bandages. I opened the wounds on my hands.

That's when they strapped me to the bed and put my IV back in so that they could give me more drugs. I've been on heavy drugs ever since.

"So where are Catherine and Sara?" I experimentally flex my hands in the straps and wish I hadn't tried to move them at all. A searing pain runs through them both and I know that whatever I did to my hands must have been really bad.

Nikki focuses back on me. "They went to go speak with the doctors and to get some food for us."

"I'm surprised at least one of them didn't stay." I take a deep breath and release it very slowly. "They must trust you somewhat."

Nikki shrugs. "We've gotten to know each other."

I turn away from her and look up at the ceiling. "Should I be worried about that?"

A slight smile makes an appearance on her face. "Maybe."

"Did you tell them about--?" I haven't forgotten about that. I don't think I'll ever be able to forget about that again.

Nikki licks her lips and bites on her bottom lip for a while. I already know her answer. "I had to, Melinda. After what you did to yourself, I had to tell them. They just wanted to understand. It killed them to not know why you…"

I give a slight nod. "I know." I swallow whatever emotion wants to escape me at the moment and ask, "So what are they going to do?" They are kinda like police, right? I mean, isn't it kind of their responsibility to make sure the truth comes to light and all that stuff?

Nikki reaches out and brushes my hair back. "I don't think they're going to do anything."

"But they know what happened?"

She leans forward and places her lips close to my left ear, "They told the doctors you cut yourself because of your past. They were really vague about the whole thing."

"That doesn't mean much."

Nikki pulls away from me. "You don't really believe that."

"Why shouldn't I?" My voice sounds a lot harsher than I meant it to, but I'm not worried about offending Nikki. I'm never worried about offending her; I'm more concerned with how she'll respond.

Her eyes narrow and she leans in towards me again. "You know they love you, Melinda. You might want to run from it but damn it they love you and you can't turn your back on that. They won't let you run from it." Her hand moves to my shoulder. "You've finally gotten something neither of us thought we'd ever have. Don't screw it up."

The door slides open softly, but still I hear it. I turn my head expecting to see Catherine or Sara finally returning and am thrown off by Jenny's face. She shouldn't have come here.

Nikki looks over and she doesn't seem too happy to see Jenny at the moment. I'm not too happy to see her now either. I'm not exactly looking my best these days. I would have preferred her to have not seen me strapped to a hospital bed with bandages covering my hands—bandages that are there because I tortured my own flesh.

"I told you that you should wait," Nikki tells Jenny softly.

"I thought Mel should decide that," Jenny replies looking directly at me. She doesn't seem too comfortable with what she sees. She couldn't hold my gaze.

Nikki looks at me. She's going to let me decide.

"You should leave," It's all I want her to do. I don't want her here. She doesn't know me. She shouldn't see this.

"Is that what you want or is that what she wants?" Jenny nods her head towards Nikki.

"Get the fuck out," I say slowly. "I don't want you here." At least not while I'm tied up like this.

Jenny looks at me like I've slapped her. Maybe a part of me has. She should have left me alone. I don't even know how she found out about this. No one would call her, I don't think. Why would anyone tell her about me?

I open my mouth to say something else but Nikki puts her hand on my hip and shakes her head. I look back at her and tell her to get rid of Jenny. She nods then walks towards Jenny and guides her out of the room. Finally I'm left alone and I'm not sure that's for the best.

Left alone I can only concentrate on myself. I don't think I should be concentrating on myself at the moment. Concentrating on me doesn't seem like a good idea at all. There's so much now that I can't control what's going on in my head. It's like it all broke loose and now there's no controlling any of it.

There's nothing now that I don't remember and every single memory is acting out in my head. I remember getting hit by a belt and the feel of a knife slicing through my arm and how it felt to make contact with Laura's head. It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. I remember how it felt when she first told me I was worthless, that I was less than, that I was stupid.

My head hurts. My body hurts. Everything about me hurts.

I hear the door open again but don't bother to look to see who it is. It doesn't matter now. I've been alone. Everything has started up again. Someone being with me now can't stop it.

"You're awake," It's Catherine's voice. "The doctors said you probably wouldn't wake up today."

Doctors don't know all that much.

"Melinda?" That's Sara's voice. They must have come in together. "Can you hear me?"

Of course I can hear her, but I'm afraid to speak. I don't know what to say. Maybe if they think I'm lost in another fit then they'll ignore me. Maybe they'll not make me face them now. Maybe I won't have to listen to them telling me how disappointed they are in me. I won't have to listen to how I constantly fall short to everyone's expectations, including theirs.

Maybe, for a moment, I can silently lay here and make-believe that I'm not evil and that they don't know I'm evil.

But why avoid it now? I lose them now or lose them later. I'm surprised they stuck around this long.

"I'm sorry I ran away," They should know that before they start yelling. "I'm really sorry that I hurt you Catherine. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have done a lot of things. I'm sorry—"

"Stop," Catherine covers my lips with a finger. "Stop apologizing."

I can understand not wanting to hear apologies. They're probably too angry to hear any from me. I get that.

"We can talk about that later." She's smiling but I'm sure she doesn't mean to.

Sara moves over and puts her hands on the rail of the hospital bed. "How are you feeling? Are you in a lot of pain?"

I do the best kind of shrug I can do.

"We should take these off," Sara starts working at the straps. "You don't need them anymore." She's not looking at me. I don't think she's looked at me yet at all.

The strap on my right arm falls free and I feel the brush of gentle fingers over the scar there. Sara moves to the left. I just now notice that my cast is gone. I don't think the bone had a chance to heal, but I'm sure there's a reason they took it off. Maybe I tried killing someone with the cast.

It's hard to say it's not possible, isn't it?

"Maybe you should put the straps back on." It's for the best. I don't feel up to it really, but I might end up hurting someone again.

"You don't need them," Sara says forcefully but still doesn't look at me. I can tell that her hands are shaking though.

"Who says?"

Now she looks at me. "I do, okay?"

My breathing picks up and I'm finding it hard to keep a lid on whatever is aching to come out. "I'm a murderer. Don't they strap murderers to beds?"

"You're not a murderer," Both Catherine and Sara respond rather forcefully.

"I killed her." Those are the magic words. That's what wanted to come out that I was trying to force down. It's always been there, just touching the surface clawing its way into my memory and into the light.

"You were defending yourself," Catherine fills in the lingering silence after my outburst.

"But I killed her." It comes down to that doesn't it? The end result will never change.

"And if you hadn't then I would have." Sara releases the final strap.

I look at Catherine expecting her to refute Sara's words but she doesn't. "I would have too." She blinks a few times and wipes at her eyes. "If I had seen this," she reaches out and grabs my right arm. "I don't think—"

"It wouldn't have been in self-defense." Sara looks away from me.

"But I killed her. That changes everything."

"Not for us," Catherine squeezes my arm. "Never for us."

"So what now?" What happens when I have to get back to the real world? What happens when I get out of this bed? What happens now that I remember?

"You get well," Sara tells me. "That's all you have to do."

The door opens and Nikki enters. She greets Sara and Catherine then makes her way into my view. "I should have thought of taking the straps off earlier." That's the first thing she says to me. "I shouldn't have left them on." She sounds truly regretful. "Jenny said she'd try coming again later. She's worried about you."

I'm starting to feel drowsy again, but I think it's because of the medication. I don't feel like going to sleep again, but I don't think I'll be able to help it.

Sara, I think picks up on my tiredness and tells me to sleep. I want to protest. There's so much that I need to know, but I can't fight the sleep. The last thing I hear is Catherine saying I might need the straps when I sleep because of my nightmares. I guess my dreams are violent. I guess they're just like me.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

It took me forever to talk them into it, but they finally let me out of the hospital bed. I don't know why they were keeping me there for so long in the first place. I always have an escort with me so it's not like I'm going to sneak off and throw myself down some stairs or anything. Dying by stairwell doesn't seem like a good way to die. Anyway, I seem to be the sharp object type anyway. Apparently I know a lot about cutting into the body.

Maybe I learned that from my grandmother.

So right now I'm sitting on some balcony type thing and Nikki is standing next to me. We're looking over the edge watching all the little people running around below. The balcony faces a parking lot and there's nothing beyond that so there's really not that much to look at, but it's better than staring at the wall in my hospital room.

"Have you ever realized how much violence we surround ourselves with?" I'm feeling a little philosophical at the moment.

"Not really," Nikki keeps her focus on the parking lot. "It's hard to notice when it's the only thing that surrounds you."

I make a grunting sound that lets Nikki know I understand where she's coming from. It makes perfect sense really. It's like how would I know if I were in an oppressed state if all I knew was oppression. It's hard to tell what's normal since my norm was so out of the norm. I had to learn that I came from one of those special families. My life was all about the after school specials.

"But have you stopped to listen what everyone surrounds themselves with? I mean, Nik, when you step outside the world sounds so mad. Everything sounds angry. You hear cars honking, screeching tires, jet engines, sirens and all that. The sounds we hear are mad."

Nikki turns to me and bends down. She puts her arms on the left armrest of my wheelchair. "You've got a point somewhere, I know it."

I'm sure I do have a point somewhere. I look down at my heavily bandaged arms and I know that the point is floating somewhere in there, but I can't see it. "It's a mad world, Nik."

She shrugs and pulls away from me. "Can be."

I look back over the balcony and watch as an ambulance pulls into the emergency room with its sirens blaring. "So where's the peace?" I say almost entirely under my breath and I think I've found my point. I want to know what the point is to me being where I am right now. I want to know why I was chosen to go through this. What put me on this road?

I'm not the type to look into higher meaning about things. I don't believe in God. I don't believe in anything. I don't even believe in myself.

"When I find it," Nikki releases a long sigh, "I'll let you know."

"It needs to show up soon." I might die if it doesn't. I'm under constant suicide watch and get checked on every night by nurses and doctors and either Nikki, Sara, Catherine or all of them are with me. Everything has been put on hold for me or at least it's been put on hold until something big happens. It will only move on when I die or they decide that I'm not going to do anything to myself.

When does it end?

I always thought I was a fighter. I thought I was going to survive no matter what. I fought back in the end, didn't I? Sara took me into her life and I knew that I'd survive that too. There was this myth surrounding me that I believed—nothing could touch me.

It all fell apart. I didn't survive because I started breaking down. It's ironic because I got easy street handed to me on a silver platter and I couldn't deal with it. When I walked into Las Vegas I got two parents and a sister. I got instant friends and the whole American Dream life.

My life continued in suburbia. People told me they loved me and they even acted like they gave a damn. With all that surrounding me, I fell apart anyway. Everything was the way it was supposed to be and it ended. The glass that was barely holding me up shattered and I'm left with arms and hands that are fucked up, a head that's even more fucked up, and not a clue as to where to go.

I've thought about running away, but I don't think that would work out too well. Sara would come looking for me. I'm mostly convinced that she wouldn't stop until she found me. Despite how suicidal I've acted, none of it was me doing any of the damage. It was the memories. Probably no one in the world could understand this, but I never tried to kill myself. Everything—my arms, my fixation with knives—it all comes from somewhere else.

When I know who I am and where I am, I have no desire to die. It's when I get lost in what happened before that stuff starts happening. When I fall into the past, that's when it's like I don't know who I am anymore. Then again, I don't think I ever knew who I was. I have no clue who I am now.

I get up from the wheelchair and step to the barriers on the balcony. It's only these bars that hold me back from a fall to the ground. Nikki's eyes are searing into my skin. She's watching me, her muscles ready to react to whatever it is I'm going to do. She's not going to let me jump. She doesn't want me to die.

There are more sirens from below. "It's mad out there." I'm looking past the parking lot. "But that has to be better than how it is in here." I tap the side of my head.

Nikki doesn't say anything. She continues to watch me. If I drop over, I'm convinced she might possibly come with me. If she can't stop me, then she'll jump after me. That's how Nikki is. She doesn't give up until it's absolutely over.

I turn to her, reach out grab the front of her shirt and pull her closer to me. "It's time to leave."

A big smile crosses her face and she wraps an arm around me. "You were starting to worry me."

I nod. "Let's go back inside. It's about time I get checked out of here. This place is a real downer."

We go back inside and leave the wheelchair on the balcony. I've been wallowing lately and I don't think I've ever wallowed before. It doesn't have a lot of high points. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone, really.

When we get back to my room Sara is sitting next to the hospital bed on the phone. She looks up and smiles at us then tells whoever is on the other end that she needs to go. Her life has stopped because of me. That's not right.

"It's time for me to go," I tell her. "I don't know if wallowing is genetic but I can't do it anymore. I'm broken, beat up, mentally and physically exhausted, I don't know which way is up or which way is down, but I do know that it's time for me to go back into the world. Don't fight me on this, just fill out the necessary paperwork and we'll start life back up again. I may be dying but I'm not taking the rest of you with me, and if it takes me to get up and fight again so that everyone who cares for me survives too then so be it." I talk quickly hoping not to give Sara a chance to interrupt.

I'm fucked up. I'll most likely always be fucked up but I have to decide to move somewhere. Ultimately, I just have to get over it. Sounds pretty harsh, I think. It's almost like just sucking it up on the court. Get up and move on. It's hard. It's harder than anything, but if I don't get up then I'm going to die. I've discovered that I really don't want to die.

I don't.

Sara stands up and walks over to me. She looks closely at me, searching for something that looks the slightest bit out of place. "Are you sure about this?"

"I just have to get up." It's that simple. I have to move. I have to get to a point when my flashbacks don't cripple me.

My mother understands this. I can tell by looking at her. She's gone away and once again is remembering something from her own past. I seriously think that I'm a reflection of her sometimes. Now if she could share her past with me. She has to have an answer to something here. She's still walking around and seems to be in decent shape.

When I get out of here and we get back to whichever home she's taking me to, I'm going to step out. I'm going to ask her everything that I never bothered to ask before. I've remembered my worst secret, I want to know hers.

I want to know my real mother and I want her to know her daughter. When we're done we can see if we want to keep each other.

Sara nods slightly, "I'll get everything taken care of."

For as long as I can possibly try and bother to remember, I've always been fighting to get rid of the emotion inside of me. I've willed myself to feel nothing. It's about time I start fighting to unbury everything I've pushed down. I need to fight for who I am so that I can survive because it's a mad world out there and I need to find my truth to live in it.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

When they took me back to Catherine's house there wasn't a welcome home party waiting for me. I didn't get balloons and a cake. There were no 'I'm glad you're feeling better' wishes. When I got back the house was empty and silent. Catherine was carrying my bag and we walked into a dark house that felt purposely abandoned.

Nikki ran away as soon as we stepped through the door and Catherine and I were left alone. My brain might really be messed up but I'm not exactly brain damaged. I can smell a set up when it comes out and smacks me on the back of the head.

"So what's going on?" Catherine's been staring at me probably waiting for me to say something to her, what with the ominous silence we got sucked into.

"We wanted to give you some time to get settled." That answer sounds a little over-practiced. She must have gone in front of the mirror and prepared for this moment.

I throw the small and only bag Catherine and Nikki allowed me to carry on the floor. "I'm settled so everyone can come back now."

For some reason I expect a deranged clown of some sort or maybe a vampire to jump out of the darkness. There are things going on here that I'm not so much following, and crazy things jumping out of the shadows would almost make sense right now. At least, it would make more sense than Catherine's attitude at the moment. I'm back and well, it should be a room full of happy, right?

"They're giving us time." It sounds like some kind of confession from Catherine, but whatever it is she's confessing to, I still don't get.

"Time for what?" Something is happening and crazy little me is not in the loop.

Catherine keeps her distance from me even though she seems she wants to approach me. We haven't gotten that far into the house and we both keep looking at the closed and locked door. Though, Catherine's probably looking at it so much because I'm practically staring a hole through it.

"We've debated whether or not to tell you this, but I don't think we could avoid it."

I don't want to know. I've decided because I think I feel another flashback coming on. The doctors said they had a higher chance of reappearing when I was under a lot of stress. They say the stress makes my brain do funny things.

Catherine puts aside whatever it is keeping her away from me and puts a soft hand on my arm. "We found your biological father."

"My what?"

"What you did," Catherine looks at my arms and I know she wants to stop talking but she's the only one here to explain what's been happening, "it made the news, Mel. He saw you. He came to the hospital."

"He who?"

"Sara recognized him when she saw him in the emergency room."

"Him who?"

"He donated his blood to help save you, since you lost so much."

"He what?" I don't like that idea at all. He's not entitled to save my life, and couldn't they have waited to tell me this when I was settled. Why is it so important for me to know this right now?

"Sara wasn't sure she could get through telling you this, but she wants you to call her when you can. If you want to."

I look down at the bandages that still cover my arms. This whole situation is really messed up. "So why tell me this? Why ever tell me this?" Maybe it's okay for them to have secrets.

"He wants to meet you."

"And you support that?" I don't believe that either of them support even entertaining the idea.

Catherine shakes her head. "We don't like the idea at all, but it's not our decision to make. It's yours."

"Why didn't you tell me about this when I was in the hospital?" Like when I was tied down and drugged out of my mind and had close access to drugs that could make me forget we ever had a conversation like this.

"We thought you could handle it better when you got out."

I wonder if better is actually supposed to be euphemism for more stable. I don't think I'm all that stable right now. There's no way I'd be making bets in my favor at the moment.

"You couldn't have waited a little while to tell me. A month would have been good, maybe a year or ten."

"I'm sorry," Catherine releases a heavy sigh. "We can't wait. He's threatened to go to the courts if we don't let him see you."

There's something terribly wrong with that. "Why isn't he in jail?" That is where he belongs isn't it?

"The statue of limitations ran out," Catherine doesn't sound too happy about that.

"So what?" I'm really at a loss here. "Do I start running around calling him Daddy or something?"

"Don't do anything you don't want to."

I should have stayed in the hospital. That seems to be what would be best. "I want to talk to Sara." I step away from Catherine and her hand falls from my arm. "I won't make a decision until I talk to her."

Catherine nods and pulls out her cell phone. I don't think I've ever seen her without her phone. What would she do without it?

It doesn't matter. There are other things floating around that I can think about. I move over to the sofa and take a seat. My arms have started to hurt but I'm thinking that's not only because of what I did to them. They're throbbing. The blood is pushing through my veins and it hurts, because it's not my blood. It's my fathers. Type O. He must be type O. That's what I am.

"She's going to come over," Catherine is standing in front of me.

"She should have been here in the first place." I can't be convinced otherwise.

In her constant defense of my mother, Catherine takes a seat next to me and opens her mouth to defend Sara once again. "You're right, she should have."

I wasn't expecting that at all. That didn't sound so much like a defense.

"But it's really hard for her, Mel. I don't know if you could imagine it." There's the defense I was expecting.

"Cause I've never been raped?" My body's been used just like Sara's. Maybe rape wouldn't be the right word, but sometimes it sure felt like it.

Catherine shakes her head. "No, because you've never been a parent."

I'm not sure how that fits either. "And that means?"

Catherine lowers her head and stares down at her lap. "That means you've never feared the loss of a child."

Well that's obvious.

"Sara fears losing you, Melinda. We both do."

She still should have been here. She should have been the one to tell me. When she shows up I'll tell her that. Then, I'll have no choice but to get over it because there are bigger things going on.

My father, who by all counts is a real asshole, wants to meet me. He wanted to help save my life, apparently. So why did irony have him watching the early morning news when they reported some crazy girl losing it? And more importantly how the hell did he know I was his daughter? Did Sara fill him in on that part? All this time, did he know I existed?

What happened while I was asleep? For that matter what happened while I was in the hospital? What has happened while I've been losing my mind?

Because right at this moment I'm starting to feel like recovering my sanity might not be in my best interest.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

When Sara walks through the door I'm ready for her. I've got everything I want to say planned out and I'm prepared for a long and loud argument. But I don't yell at her. I don't shout and I don't say any of the things that I've been running through my head as the best things to say.

She walks in and I look at her and she looks horrible. There are bags under her eyes, she looks thinner, paler, and almost completely worn out. Sara is a direct reflection of what I feel and possibly what I look like. Neither of us seems to be real healthy these days.

Why didn't I notice her appearance before at the hospital? She was there every day. I just saw her yesterday. I looked at her. I saw her.

I look at Catherine and she doesn't look any better off than Sara or me.

"So what's been going on?" I've missed a lot.

My legs didn't propel me up in anger when Sara came in. My body didn't do much of anything. That probably surprised Catherine and Sara. I'm feisty, right? I'm supposed to get angry and loud. I'm not supposed to ask a question calmly.

Later we can attribute all of that to the myriad of drugs they have me on. It's the anti-depressant, the mood stabilizer, the painkiller, the anti-inflammatory, the antibiotic. It's not me handling this with some speck of ease. It couldn't be me.

"How much do you remember?"

Well Sara just asked the million dollar question didn't she? How much do I remember? What has decided to stick in my brain and what's gone away again?

"Everything is still fuzzy." I remember cutting my hands open.

"I remember going away with you both and the flashbacks." I remember more about my childhood now than I ever really wanted to remember. All that could have stayed forgotten.

"I remember what I did to Catherine," something I still feel bad about, "and going to see Nikki. She had a visitor that night." Where did Nikki run off to anyway?

"I remember getting into the ambulance but not arriving at the hospital. I remember waking up from surgery but I don't remember all of it." The last clear memory I have is looking down from the balcony at the hospital and deciding that I wanted my life.

"Sara you took off the straps." That's it. That's all of it. "So what am I missing?"

How did my biological father end up in the emergency room with me?

Sara finally sits down and does so practically in my lap. "Do you remember what happened when you first woke up after you got to the hospital?"

"No." My guess is I had already too much blood at that point. I hear consciousness is a requirement for memorization.

"He tried to see you then." Sara sounds angry. Maybe I did want to be awake for that one. Hopefully she punched him.

"He recognized Sara," Catherine fills in when I guess she thinks Sara is taking too long of a pause. "Well they recognized each other."

"I couldn't refuse his help, Melinda. You were dying. He recognized you the minute he saw you." Sara starts playing with a ring on her thumb. "You look a lot like him."

"So does he have a name?" We don't really need to get into the part where he gives me his blood. I don't need the details of that.

"Robert Gary," Sara offers slowly.

That's not too bad of a name, nothing that really stand out either. "Did you know his name before?"

Sara nods. "Went to school with him."

"So why didn't you ever press charges?" She doesn't want me to ask these questions, I can tell. All of her attention is on that ring. She's started to tap her foot on the floor. She wants to run away. I put my bandaged hand over her ring.

She looks at me. "I was too scared. Mom wouldn't support me. I couldn't do it on my own."

A part of me thinks I shouldn't ask this, but I'm going to anyway. I want to know. "So what happened exactly?"

"That's not—" Catherine starts to say but is cut off by Sara.

"Mom had just finished giving me a lesson," I know those lessons. "I ran over to a friend's house. She was having a party. I got drunk and Robert took advantage. I fought him but he was too strong."

"So you saw him in school everyday until Laura kicked you out." I can fill in a lot of the story. I know Laura. She'd have made Sara suffer as much as possible for getting pregnant even if Sara had no part in it. "He knew you were pregnant with me back then. He knew who I was and now he wants to play Daddy?"

Sara gives a derisive snort. "He says he's changed. He has a family of his own. He's older and more mature."

"His wife know what he did?" I bet she doesn't. I'm not sure that's something I'd share.

"He said she does," Catherine answers. "Neither of us have met her."

Maybe love really is completely blind. It would have to be for someone to decide to willingly marry a rapist, but what does that say about me if I want to meet him? Well I'm already crazy. I've got a good excuse.

"What do you want me to do?" I ask Sara. I'm well aware that I've been dragging her and Catherine through the depths of hell recently and I'm sort of wanting to stop that.

"What you want to do." There's a practiced answer if I've ever heard one.

"So what do you want me to do?" I want the truth.

Sara puts her hand softly on the one that is holding onto her ring. "I want you to tell him to fuck off."

That's what I want to do. "I need to know why I shouldn't do that." There has to be a reason out there why I should meet him other than him sharing his blood with me, cause that's just not doing it for me.

There's complete silence. I guess that means none of us have a good enough reason.

"He's your father and if you don't do it now, then you'll think about if for the rest of your life." Nikki says as she steps into the room with us. "He doesn't deserve that much thought from you."

That's a pretty good reason. "So how long were you listening?" I ask her knowing that she's never been one to hide away and leave things for other people to resolve on their own.

She smiles at me. "I never left."

"Okay," I release a long breath. "Then I should do this?" I ask Nikki. "I should meet him so that he doesn't go to the courts like he actually has parental rights?"

"I'll kill him before he gets any." I believe Sara's serious about that.

"Can he get any?" I'm not big on the laws of the land. I've never had experience with guardian rules. "I mean, is that legal? Would he have a case?"

"He might," Catherine answers. "By what the law says, he is your father."

The law fucking sucks. "So he wants to do this when exactly?"

"Tonight," Sara tells me. "He'll file if he doesn't get to see you tonight."

Well there's nothing like a little bit of pressure, but at least now I'm on an antidepressant. That's stopping me from going completely crazy again. The doctors say I'm clinically depressed. They also say that I'm suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder and have this other theory that I'm Bipolar. That's why they put me on Eskalith. I hear it's a lithium pill. It's supposed to control my mood swings. I think the official description of it is mood stabilizer'.

They say it's really rare for someone my age to get diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. They say it might be linked to my special history. They say a lot of things.

"So I guess I meet him tonight."

Hopefully he doesn't expect us to have a very long conversation. I'm not thankful for him reappearing in my life. I'm not happy that he wants to meet me or that he may have ended up with a decent life. He's ultimately one of the main reasons why I was born.

I don't want to die. I know that, but I can't help but think that maybe it would have been best if I was never born. Laura wouldn't have gotten a chance to bring out the sickness in another child. It wouldn't have ended up that I basically killed her whether it was in self-defense or not. Sara would have her bliss with Catherine and all they would have to worry about would be Lindsey and their work.

I wouldn't have to go through any of this. Doctors wouldn't be telling me that I have a disorder that will last throughout my entire life. A father who is a real bastard wouldn't be asking to see me. None of this would be happening.

It doesn't sound all that unappealing, not being born.

"You really don't have to do this," Catherine lays her hand on my thigh. "We can figure something else out."

"No need." I shake my head. "If he wants one meeting, I can give him one meeting."

"He doesn't deserve that much," Nikki says having not moved from the corner she appeared from. "But you deserve at least that. You deserve to face him and yell at him as much as you want to."

"You're not going alone." Sara squeezes my hand a little and that causes a shooting pain to move up my arm. I try not to show the pain on my face. Sara doesn't need to know how much pain I'm still in. Now isn't the time for that. This is the only contact I have with her. I don't want to let that go.

"There's no way you're going alone," Nikki adds.

"I hadn't expected to be," I grin slightly. "I sorta thought Catherine and Sara would be there brandishing their guns and looking very menacing like."

"Damn straight," Catherine actually has a small grin now too. Maybe this thing with Mr. Gary won't kill us after all.

"I could dig out my leather jacket," Even Sara's willing to let go a bit now. So maybe hell isn't strong enough to keep us down.

"I wouldn't go for leather in this heat." Nikki finally moves further into the room. "I'm sure the guns will work. Do I get a gun too?"

"If she gets one then I should get one." It would only be fair.

"Neither of you are properly trained." Catherine's smiling now. "That would be very irresponsible."

I shrug. "We might not be properly' trained but that doesn't mean we don't know how to use one." Maybe that was saying too much. I would guess by the looks I'm getting from Sara and Catherine it was.

"You've used a gun before?" Sara's really starting to master that mom' tone.

"I've never used one," I quickly reply.

"But you know how to?" Catherine asks and I get a feeling of being double teamed. I don't like the feeling.

"I haven't always been surrounded by the best of crowds. A gun offered a certain amount of protection."

Catherine drops her head into the palm of her hand. "Do you still have one?"

"No." They don't need to know that I sold it to a drug dealer I knew because I needed the money. I can leave that part out and possibly tell them about it when I'm like fifty.

"What did you do with it?" Did Sara know the exact question to ask?

I shrug. "Got rid of it."

"How?" She pushes.

"Sold it."

"To who?"

She does interrogations a lot, I think. "A drug dealer. He knew me and said he'd buy it from me since I was hard up for some money. I wasn't getting a lot of monetary support at home."

They don't like it. I can tell they don't like the idea of it at all, me selling or having a gun, but what did they expect? Sara may have not stooped to that level when she was living with them, but I did. I did a lot of stuff I should have never done. I'm sure they don't want to know half of it.

"We can talk about this later," Catherine has the mom' voice mastered but she's been using it longer. "It's not important now."

That's right, it's not important now. I have to think about what I'm going to say to my father when I see him, cause I am going to see him. I'm going to be introduced to him just like I was to my mother, without a clue as to what to do and with enough anger to get me into trouble.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

Public places are great. They offer a certain amount of protection when danger might arise. But we're not going to meet Robert Gary in a public place. Maybe we don't believe in that kind of protection or maybe we just don't want to make a scene in public. Either way it goes, we're meeting at his house.

His wife will be there, but his kids have been taken to their grandparents' house. I guess Robert thinks that this meeting might be inappropriate for the young ones to witness. I could argue that this whole thing is a lot more than inappropriate just for the young ones. It's inappropriate for Sara to be here, and for me to be forced to be here. He threatened my mother, again.

I don't know what to think of any of that.

Robert's kids are technically my siblings. Robert's wife is technically my stepmother. His parents are technically my grandparents. For all intents and purposes they are technically part of my family, but it doesn't feel that way. They feel like strangers. I'm not big on meeting new people.

Maybe none of us in this car right now are big on meeting new people and that's why no one has bothered to even unlock the car doors. We're all sitting here, with the engine still running, looking at his house.

It's a nice house. It has a green well cared for lawn. He has one of those sprinklers that chase people and sound like a really big insect of some sort. His mailbox looks like a little brick house and the red flag is in its upright position. The driveway is empty so I assume his vehicles are in the garage. I'm guessing he has at least two cars, most people do these days.

We didn't park in the driveway. We're on the street. Catherine's behind the wheel and Sara is sitting rigidly in the passenger seat. I'm not sure she's even breathing anymore. I don't remember the last thing she said or the last thing anyone said for that matter. I know I haven't said anything recently.

I should say something, maybe. "I can go in alone." Everyone doesn't have to go in. "And call you in later."

Nikki's hand is on my thigh. I don't remember her putting it there. "We can go."

I can tell by the way Sara's breathing starts up again that she actually is considering the offer. She doesn't want to go into that house. "We're all going in," she says as she unlocks the doors then opens hers.

We all take that as a sign and open our doors. My feet are the first to touch the ground closely followed by Nikki's. Catherine and Sara only just managed to get their doors opened. There's something going on with them that possibly has nothing to do with me. This isn't about me meeting my father to them, but I think it may be more of a case of them meeting Sara's rapist. It would make sense that they think of it that way.

It probably makes me really selfish that I'm not going into this thinking that. It's part of the whole picture, sure, but it's not my main focus. Robert is my biological father. He's the guy I get half my make-up from. He's the guy that will show me how important nature really is.

I've already told them that I can do this alone and I'm not going to tell them it again, cause I really don't think I can do this alone. I want them with me. They have to be there, cause they have to be stronger than me. They are the adults in this situation and all. They're the grownups for all intents and purposes.

He doesn't even wait for everyone to get out of the car before he opens the door. He's tall, but I always thought he would be. His skin is dark, not black, but definitely dark. He looks Hispanic. I didn't know I was Hispanic.

Robert steps towards me, but doesn't get too close. He waves awkwardly and I don't even think of waving back. I can't even remember why I'm here now. I don't know why we drove all this way to meet him at his house. Why didn't he come to me? We wouldn't have to meet at Catherine's place. I know none of us want him in our home.

"I'm glad you came," He has an accent. It's not a thick one but I can tell it's there nonetheless. "I was almost positive that you wouldn't."

"That's funny." It's really not. "I was positive I wouldn't too until Mom told me you threatened her with taking this to court."

His shoulders slump and he turns his gaze away from me. "It was an empty threat."

An arm slips around my waist and Sara's voice sounds stronger in this air, "That's not how you made it sound at all."

My weight falls against her before I even know what my body is doing. She's ready for it and doesn't even need to shift her stance. Nikki steps up to my side and Catherine steps up to Sara's. There's nothing quite like presenting a united front.

"I only wanted to get a chance to meet my daughter." His eyes are pleading with Sara's as if he deserves at least that. He doesn't deserve it though, does he?

"I'm not your daughter," Robert should know that up front. I have parents and he's not one of them.

He nods once. "Fair enough."

A woman comes out of the house and I'm going to assume it's his wife. She's beautiful. She has long dark hair, perfect white teeth, olive skin, dark brown eyes and the unfortunate intellect to marry this guy. Beauty and brains is supposed to be a hard combination to find, right?

"Hello," she says softly to all of us. "I'm Clarissa."

"Melinda." I respond shortly then turn and point to Sara. "These are my parents Sara and Catherine." My arm goes across Nikki's shoulders, putting even more weight against Sara. "And this is my friend Nikki."

"Would you like to come inside?" Clarissa asks all of us.

None of us move and it takes me a moment to realize that the rest of them are waiting on me. They're not going to do anything unless I do it first. That's strange. I've my own little posse here.

"Why not?" I take the first step and everyone follows. I'm the first one to enter the house and immediately look for a place to sit down. I can't stand for long these days. My body is still weak and I'm not too entirely comfortable in this situation either so my legs aren't feeling as sturdy as they usually do.

Clarissa starts acting like the perfect hostess and asks us all if we want anything to drink and has set out some finger foods for us to pick at. I'm not hungry and I'm really not thirsty either. No one seems to be because no one wants anything to drink and no one is picking at the food.

We're sitting in Clarissa's and Robert's living room filling almost all of the available seats in complete silence. I'm almost tempted to pick up a cracker and cheese offering to just do something with myself relatively productive. I'm relatively comfortable in thinking that Clarissa wouldn't try to poison us. I don't see how she would benefit from that.

"So are you feeling better?" Robert asks me as he reaches out for the cracker and cheese offering I had my eye on.

Clarissa is staring at the bandages I still have covering my arms. I wonder how much Robert and she knows about me and what happened. Do they know about Laura? Do they know about anything at all other than my name?

Am I feeling better? That's a stupid question. So he must not know anything. "I'm getting better."

He finishes off his cracker and wipes the crumbs from his pants. They sprinkle down to the floor and I find it a little absurd that watching crumbs is the most exciting thing and comfortable thing to do in this situation.

"So why did you want to see me?" I can't sit here and wait for him to say something profound forever. It's not really possible for him to come up with something all that great to say anyway. He's the bad guy. Bad guys usually aren't very profound in their excuses for why they want to ruin people's lives.

Robert lowers his head but I don't think he's looked directly at me yet. His vision has been jumping from my torso to my arms but his eyes never have settled. Right now he's staring at the crackers and cheese. "I wanted to get a chance to meet you." He answers to the crackers.

"The first time you see me is what appears to be a suicide attempt and that makes you want to play Daddy?" Seems kind of twisted to me.

"Appears to be?" That's the part he catches onto.

"She wasn't trying to kill herself," Catherine jumps in. "It was more complicated than that."

"It usually is and can probably be directly related to her 'parents'." Robert doesn't hesitate to stare Catherine down. He actually seems to have some kind of judgment thing going on in his tone.

Robert might actually think that I have bad parents. That's certainly an odd thought. I mean, this guy is judging whether my parents are good enough for me?

"Robert, don't pretend you know about something you don't." Sara's being defensive. Maybe they've had this conversation before. It's likely that it might have come up.

"I know what I saw," Robert replies strongly. "I saw my daughter with her arms cut up with doctors surrounding her trying to make sure she lived."

Catherine opens her mouth to say something but I beat her to it. "I'm not your daughter. Your genetics just happen to be part of me."

"When I saw you," he finally looks at me, "I saw my daughter bleeding and crying out for help. I can't ignore that, Melinda. I've already tried to ignore too much in my life."

Yeah. Right. "Are you Bipolar?"

The question throws him off and his brow furrows in confusion. "No."

"Anyone in your family Bipolar?" He might be able to blame for that too, although I think Laura might be the donator of that particular disorder.

"Not that I know of, why?" He's still confused, too bad for him.

"Me cutting myself really wasn't a cry for help. The cry came way before you ever suddenly appeared. I agree with my mom. Don't pretend to know about something you don't." I reach out for a cracker. I'm not hungry but it gives me something to do and I can stop looking at him.

"You tried to kill yourself." He leans forward in his seat and I think he even is thinking about reaching out for me. That would be a big mistake on his part.

I sigh and scoot back. Sara is sitting next to me and I move closer to her. "I thought we already covered this. I wasn't trying to kill myself."

"Then what was it?" He doesn't sound like he believes me and I can't believe him! The bastard thinks he can walk in and play the hero here or something? Where does he get off? He doesn't know anything. He can't judge whether my parents are 'fit' or not. I know what 'unfit' parents are like. I've lived with that and I'm not living with that now. I'm not. Sara and I may not be on the firmest ground or anything, but I consider her to be fit.

"It's none of your business," Sara tells him and puts her arm around me.

"We've talked about this, Sara. This is my business I am her father whether any of you want to admit that or not. I want to help." Robert's sounding a little frustrated. None of us are listening to him.

"If you want to help, then disappear." If he doubted that I didn't like him before then he shouldn't doubt it now. "You're just another problem in my life now, Robert. Erase yourself and go away. Be a father to the kids you wanted to have with a wife that I can only hope to assume wanted to have the kids with you."

"Robert has changed a lot, Melinda." Clarissa actually speaks. "You should give him a chance. I'm sure you've been in a position where you wanted a second chance."

Well that's low. Clarissa might be trying to get me to look at this in another way. She may actually want me to consider letting Robert be a part of my life. She's got really high hopes. She should aim lower, like at me accepting a beverage from her.

"I'm not looking to alleviate Robert's guilt by letting him swoop in and fix my life. My life won't get fixed by someone swooping. My life will get better by being with my family and by me choosing to work through any problems I might have. Robert doesn't enter the equation." I stand up because this thing is over. There's no point in any of us being here. He can't get custody of me; I'm too old for him to even try.

Robert stands up too, along with everyone else. "You can't just forget that I exist."

I can't help but let out a little bit of a chuckle at his statement. "You'd be surprised by what I actually can forget."

He doesn't like my answer. "I'm not giving up, Melinda."

I shrug. "Fine. You don't need to." I take a quick look at Sara who has maintained a mostly expressionless façade. "I didn't tell you it could never happen, but it's certainly not happening today."

I walk to the door and once again everyone follows me. I make it to the car and no one says anything. Nikki, Catherine and Sara pile in the car, but before I get in I have a question for Robert, "What are your children's names?"

"Robert Jr. and Maria. Maria's named after your grandmother."

I nod. "And how old are they?"

"Robert Jr. is six and Maria is nine. They're looking forward to meeting you. Maria really wants a big sister." Robert gives a slight smile. "You might like having siblings."

"I already have a younger sister, Robert." I say then get into the car and shut the door.

Catherine doesn't waste anytime in getting us out of there. Our ride back is in complete silence. It's not awkward; it's just the way things needed to be in the moment.

When we get back to the house I leave them all behind and go to my room. Sara follows me and sits down next to me on my bed. "You okay?" she asks.

"I don't know. You?"

She smirks. "I don't know." There's silence for a moment more then she clears her throat. "Lindsey thinks of you as a sister too. She's been really worried."

"I haven't been that good of a sister. I haven't been that good of anything lately." I think I'm going to cry. I thought those Happy Pills the docs got me on were supposed to stop making me feel depressed. Maybe they need to up my dosage.

"That's not true, Melinda." I don't believe her. "You're a lot better at being a sister, a daughter, a everything than I ever could be. You'll see that eventually even if you don't believe me now. We'll make you believe it."

I hope they do. "Thanks for being there today, by the way. I probably wouldn't have made it if you weren't."

"I wouldn't have been anywhere else." She blinks rapidly a couple of times and it would appear that she's trying to fight off some tears. "You should try to get some rest. You're not completely healed yet."

I am tired.

Without kicking Sara, I swing my feet onto the bed and put my head on the pillow. Sara looks at me for a moment then moves so that she's lying on the bed next to me. I'm really not quite sure what she's doing here. She puts her arm across my stomach and then I realize what this is.

It's a mother holding her child. I don't remember anything like this happening to me before. It feels pretty good. I could get used to it.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

I'm in bed and Nikki is asleep next to me. That nap I took with Sara ended up giving me enough energy to stay up for the entire night, and there wasn't much to do except stay in bed and watch Nikki sleep. I won't hesitate to say that watching her wasn't that exciting. There was a lot of breathing in and out involved and it didn't seem like she was having any nightmares, and without her to distract me I was a little more than forced to start doing that thinking thing again.

I don't remember when Sara left me alone as I slept and don't even really remember Nikki taking her place, but I wish I could have just focused on those things instead of Robert Gary's face and his words. No one has told me all that happened in those four days I was in the hospital unconscious and I don't think I really want to ask about them.

Catherine said that cutting up my hands and arms made quite a scene at Nikki's apartment. I passed out and missed all the good stuff. I missed the police coming and the ambulance's arrival. I missed the crowd that formed outside of Nikki's apartment who started spreading rumors that I had been murdered because of some sordid love triangle.

Fortunately, I also missed Robert's arrival in the ER after he heard the horribly inaccurate breaking news report that there had been a possible murder during some violent domestic dispute. The breaking news report, I hear, did eventually recant their statements once the police stepped in and then my news suddenly wasn't so interesting anymore, but it was still interesting enough to get Mr. Gary to come check in on me to see if I was his biological child.

I've been thinking about Robert Gary all night.

When I rollover to look at the clock for the ten thousandth time I see that it's five in the morning. That's early, but it's not as early as three in the morning was. It seems like a decent enough time to get up and start walking around aimlessly; perhaps doing that will move my focus elsewhere.

I get out of bed and Nikki turns over but doesn't wake up. She's slept like a rock all night. I didn't have the heart to wake her up, but I wouldn't have minded if one of my coughs or turning on the bed would have woken her. She must have been really tired.

I make my way downstairs and am surprised that when I pass the window facing the backyard I can see Sara and Catherine sitting outside. The sun isn't even up yet, but they seem to be. They're sitting on the wooden bench Catherine bought when she realized I went outside all the time. She said she was tired of seeing me sit on the ground. I think it might have been her way of getting out of buying a dog for Lindsey and me.

Sara is firmly in Catherine's arms and they're talking but I can't hear anything, what with me still being inside and all. I don't really want to casually overhear their conversation either even though sometimes I wish I could become invisible so that I could hear what they say to each other. I want to know what they talk about when I'm not around.

They're pretty united every time they step in front of me. By the time these private conversations reach my ears they've already decided what they're going to do. But I want to hear what it is that never gets said in front of me. I'd like to know what they say to each other. It can't be all 'I love you' and 'You're the most important person in my life'. There has to be some of the 'I don't know if I can handle all this' and 'Are we doing the right thing' and maybe a little bit of 'Fuck Robert Gary to Hell'.

Arms circle me from behind and I feel myself being pulled back into a warm body. I recognize it as Nikki's immediately. "You're up early."

"I never sleep long," her breath grazes my ear and causes gooseflesh to appear on my arms. "So what is it we're thinking staring at your parents?"

"Selfishly, I'm thinking of what they say when I'm not around."

Nikki pulls me closer to her. "Well if it helps you out any, Baby, I'm sure they think the same thing when they see us talking."

I shrug. "Well that's different."

"How?"

Yeah how is it different? "They're like practically married and stuff." That wasn't a very good answer, but it's all I can offer with the amount of thinking I've already been forced to do these last few restless hours.

Nikki's arms fall from me. "And what are we?"

I finally turn from looking at Catherine and Sara. My attention goes to Nikki and I know it's time for us to talk. We haven't talked a lot since I suddenly reappeared in her life and decided to cut myself open on her bathroom floor. She deserves more from me.

"I don't know." That's a lame answer, but it's all I have.

Nikki nods. "I can accept that. I always have."

"Both of us have." I'd sum up our history by saying: complicated.

"Jenny is still trying to contact you," Nikki says rather easily. "You should talk to her. She may not be able to turn off love like you can."

That sounds like an insult and I might feel the need to get insulted if it what she said weren't true. Jenny did mean something to me and I probably could have fallen in love with her. The timing was off and I wasn't well. Then again, I'm not going to lie to myself and say that Jenny could have been my ever after. She was fun to be around and I valued her friendship, but none of that amounts to an ever after.

"I didn't use her like the others," It's the best defense I have. It's really the only defense I have.

"You should at least talk to her."

I move closer to Nikki and put her arm across my waist again. "I know." I shift in her hold so that we're comfortably facing each other. "Have you called that mammoth of a woman who answered your door when I arrived?" At still remember her standing there staring at me like I was a mentally ill person—which I sort of was—that she would have to defend her lady love against.

"Sandi," Nikki laughs lowly. "I already forgot she even existed."

My brow raises and I smile. "You're worse than I am."

"Never said that I wasn't."

Nikki works really hard to keep me on the right track but never quite bothers to get there for herself. I took up that job when I first met her, kind of like how she took up the job for me. "You should still give her a call though, what with common decency existing and all."

"I'll think about it."

That means she won't make the call. "Who was this Sandi person anyway?"

Nikki lets out a long sigh that tells me all I need to know. Sandi was nothing but a distraction. She fit the need for the time but never got close to the heart, never got in the vicinity of the heart.

"Yeah," I grin. "She didn't look like your type at all."

"I've never had a specific type in mind, Melinda. I've only had a specific person."

I'm pretty sure, here, that I don't need to guess who that person is. "Do you remember that night we met?"

"Jessica wasn't expecting you to show up at her party, but she was thrilled that you came. She was completely in love with you, but I think that's how it worked for you. Everyone fell in love with you; they couldn't help themselves."

"That's not true. A lot of people did hate me." I think more people hated me than 'loved' me. I wasn't the kindest person in the world.

"If they hated you then that's only because they didn't like it that they loved you."

The idea makes me laugh. "Well either way, the night we met was the best night I ever had in my life."

"And just think," Nikki gives my waist a bit of a squeeze, "we never even made it to my bed."

I roll my eyes and pull away from her, "Yeah, that's because you took me back to your apartment handed me a beer and we ended up talking all night long. I was fourteen at the time. You provided alcohol to a minor."

"Hey," Nikki shrugs, "I was nineteen."

I turn and look back outside and see that Catherine and Sara haven't moved. I don't think they know that Nikki and I are even watching them. "Do they know how old you are?"

Nikki sighs. "Oh yeah. They wanted to put me in jail until I yelled at them that I had never had sex with you."

For some unknown reason my body stiffens. "You told them that? And they believed you?"

"Melinda, I really didn't want to go to jail and I don't think they wanted to believe anything else."

I poke my finger in Nikki's chest. "Well then you got lucky."

"It's a lot easier to get lucky when you're telling the truth."

"I guess that's true." Nikki really shouldn't be lying to my parents anyway. "But I'm still surprised they believed you. I'm even more surprised they still believe it."

Nikki takes my poking finger in her hand. "Maybe they know that love means more than sex."

I feel the need to turn around and start staring at Sara and Catherine again. I fight the urge. "Could be, but Sara knows I was never very discriminate. She knows a little about my days before I came here."

"Not a whole lot, because she didn't know about me. She didn't know anything about me at all."

Nikki and I pull apart by what seems mutual agreement. We walk away from the direct view of Sara and Catherine and make our way to the kitchen. I take a seat at the table and Nikki pulls two cups out of the cabinet and shuffles over to the refrigerator.

"I don't know how to talk to Sara, Nikki. I don't know how to talk to Catherine either. When I came here you know my plan was two years then college and gone forever."

Nikki places a cup of orange juice in front of me then sits down next to me. "Are you saying your plans have changed?"

I wrap my hands around the cool glass cup and stare down into its juicy depths. "I think I'm saying I don't have any plans anymore. It was always an escape plan, but I don't feel the need to escape. I don't feel like finding the quickest way out."

"That's a good thing, Melinda."

Nikki is staring at me; I can feel her eyes burning a hole through my center. "It's scary, Nikki. Even if it is good, it's scary."

"It's a very scary thing, but it's still a good thing. Not a lot of us move past the escape plans." Nikki picks up her glass and takes the first sip of orange juice. I'm still holding my cup in my hands not any closer to raising it to my mouth.

"But now I have to discover what I really want to do with my life. I have to rediscover who I am." That's scarier than facing Laura again. Well, no it's not but it could be a distant second in a scariness rating. "Do I even like basketball? I've played it for so long so that I could get a scholarship and pay for school. That's all it ever was to me. The same thing goes for school. I did so well and studied so hard so that my grades would be good enough to take me away from everything. I was supposed to get into college and leave my past behind me. I'm not sure I even want to go to college anymore. Everything I did was just a focus on getting me out. I built myself around that."

Nikki puts down her glass and puts her hand on my arm. "First of all, there's no way either of those two ladies sitting outside are going to let you not go to college. You're going to school. That's probably written in stone somewhere."

I can't help but smile. "You saying they won't let me get out of that?"

"Get out of what?" Sara's voice asks from behind me.

"Enrolling in a higher education facility." Nikki answers with a smile. "You'll never let her get out of going to college."

Sara tilts her head in inquiry. "Are you thinking about not going to school?"

"We would understand if you wanted to wait a year before you enroll, but you shouldn't skip it altogether," Catherine jumps in before I can say anything.

"Can we talk about this when I'm closer to graduating from high school?" There's no point in creating an issue that doesn't even exist yet.

I can tell that they both want to say some more to me, but they let it go. School's not one of those things that is on my mind these days. I'm not even sure I'm still enrolled in school. I haven't shown up for classes in what must be close to a month now. It may be even longer than that. For all I know Sara could have withdrawn me due to medical problems or whatever. We really haven't talked about any of that.

Maybe school really isn't all that important. I know I haven't given it a thought for a long time.

Sara and Catherine start shuffling around the kitchen doing whatever it is they do without caffeine running through their veins, and I get up from the table. "I'm going to go take a shower," I announce for no specific reason and start walking out of the kitchen. Nikki gets up and follows me.

We make it back to my bedroom when Nikki turns me around to face her. "Just so you know, the night we met was the best night of my life too. I know we can't have a relationship now, just like we couldn't have a relationship back then, but you're never going to lose me, Melinda. This finding out who you are stuff that you've got to go through, well you won't be alone."

Well I have no clue how to respond to that except with maybe a, "I know. It's like we each said the first night we met: 'I'll make sure that at least you survive'."

Nikki lets go of me and takes a step away. "Yeah. It's like that."

I turn to go take that shower I had helpfully announced was in my itinerary downstairs but before I start walking away I focus my eyes on Nikki again. She's five years my senior. In this world where age matters so much that's a pretty big gap. But for us it doesn't exist. What exists between us is that we were both beaten and made to feel worthless. We both sought out ways to kill the pain.

In my infinite wisdom I used people before they got a chance to use me. Nikki did the same thing, but she never stayed too far away from drugs either. When I met her she was an addict. Her drug of choice was heroine. She's still got marks on her arms from the needles.

I'm sure at least Sara or Catherine has seen them. Nikki doesn't hide the scars that mark her arms. She says they're a reminder for her to never go back to that.

"Is there a reason you're standing there staring at me?"

I've never been unsure when it comes to Nikki, but I'm starting to question a whole lot of things these days. "You're not just sticking around cause what I did for you with the drugs are you? This just isn't about paying me back is it?"

"No," she shakes her head. "Love's more than payback too."

"Then maybe I've got a lot more to learn about the big 'L' word." I give a weak smile then walk out of my room and down the hall to the bathroom.

For a month I stayed by Nikki's side and watched the drugs slowly drain out of her system. I was there for that dealing with the whole thing, and that's the first time I ever stuck by anybody for anything.

Before I get a chance to actually enter the bathroom I run into Catherine who is coming out of her room. She smiles at me but the smile fades once she gets a good look at my face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing really," I shake my head a little. "I was just talkin' to Nikki and it got me thinking about the past."

Catherine steps up to me and puts her hand on my shoulder. "You remember something else with Laura?" she asks concerned.

"No. I was just remembering what it's like to watch a person detoxing."

"Nikki?"

"Yeah," I nod. "Helping her through that made us friends for life."

"Well," Catherine pauses for a very long time. "Beating an addiction is a very hard thing to do."

She sounds like she knows what she talking about. "So what were you on?" I never pegged Catherine for the addict type, but when I think about it I don't know a whole lot about her. If I think about it even more, we don't know a whole lot about each other. We met less than a year ago.

"Cocaine," I didn't think she'd actually tell me. "That wasn't during a particular good time in my life." Her hand drops from my shoulder. "Did you ever…"

"No. If I took anything then I would have been kicked off the basketball team. I couldn't risk it."

We stand there facing each other in silence. We've never talked like this to each other before. Something definitely is changing. We'll all have to see how that change goes, I guess.

"So I'm going to take that shower." I point to the bathroom door.

"Be sure to cover up your bandages," she points to my covered arms. "You know you still can't get them wet."

"I'll take care of it."

I push the bathroom door open but before I can step through it Catherine leaves me with, "We can talk about all this later, if you want."

"Sure thing," I reply then close the bathroom door behind me. I feel different now. I don't know if that's because of all the drugs I'm taking to make me 'normal' or if it's from something else but I do feel different.

I'll have to see where different takes me.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

My shower isn't nearly as long as I want it to be, but my right hand started bleeding again and I can't just stand in the shower bleeding. I keep on tearing open the cuts on my hands since I tend to use my hands so much. It's really hard not to, I've found out.

It's hard putting my clothes on since I'm only able to use one hand efficiently. It probably takes longer for me to put the clothes on that it took for me to take my shower. Irony I have found thee, multiple times in multiple ways.

Blood has started to drip down my forearm and I reach out for some bath tissue to wipe away the blood. I've got to get downstairs and find someone to wrap my hand back up. I've given up on trying to bandage my hands on my own. It's too much work and it always looks really bad.

Eventually I make it out of the bathroom with bath tissue wrapped around my hand and make it downstairs. I follow the smell of food, which means I end up in the kitchen. My mouth opens to call out Sara's name when I notice Lindsey sitting at the table along with Catherine and Nikki. I don't remember the last time I saw Lindsey. She looks… well she looks like herself, kinda short and spunky.

Her eyes turn to me and the first glance she gets of me after, I don't know how long, is of my hand dripping blood to the floor. I bet I look a lot different these days. I bet Catherine and Sara are looking a little different these days too.

I put my hand up in the air, elevating is always good, and offer a very weak half-smile to Lindsey. "Hey, Lindsey."

Sara's not in the kitchen. I don't know where she is, so that's probably why Catherine gets up from her chair and comes over to me, picking up a kitchen towel on her way. She carefully takes the tissue off of my hand and throws it on the counter. I'm betting that's not too sanitary. Food's being prepared in here.

"Did you break open your hand again," Catherine asks me but she doesn't need an answer exactly cause it's obvious I did something to my hand. "You're not giving this a real chance to heal, y'know?"

Shrugging seems like a good enough response, it's not like I meant to open up my hand again. I'm getting really tired of the sight of my own blood. "So Lindsey, when did you make an appearance?" It's easier not to focus on what Catherine's doing to my hand. Refocusing my attention just might take some of the throbbing pain away.

"Greg just dropped me off. Sara's talkin' to him now." Lindsey's attention is focused on her mother and my hand. This might just be the most interesting thing she's ever seen, at least judging by the look on her face it might be. "What did you do to your hand?"

Catherine's attention immediately escapes my hand and she's staring right at me. I can't read in her eyes what she's trying to tell me, but I'm sure there's something in those blue eyes of hers that is yelling at me to do something. There's a right answer here, but since I haven't been informed as to what it is then I'm going to have to go with the truth. "I cut my hand really bad a while back and it's taking a long time to heal."

The eyes staring at me relax a little and Catherine is able to go back to cleaning my hand. My answer must have been a good one.

"How did you cut your hand?" Lindsey asks and Catherine's attention is back on me and her motions have stopped once again. Lindsey is very inquisitive.

"I cut into my hand when I was having a flashback." Catherine doesn't like that answer as much, but it's the truth and that's what I'm sticking to these days.

Lindsey gets this weird look on her face and her voice gets real soft and she asks, "Did you try to kill yourself?"

With all technicalities aside, I did try to kill myself. I cut into my hands because there was blood on them, but that wouldn't make sense to her. That doesn't make sense to a whole lot of people, I bet. "I wasn't trying to kill myself."

"But you were in the hospital," Lindsey replies quickly. "You did have to stay there."

Catherine is holding onto my hand, but she's forgotten it. I can tell since she's not paying any attention to it anymore. It's started to bleed again. "I was in the hospital." I want to say that my stay wasn't exactly all for my hands. I saw more psychiatrists than I did actual medical doctors. They said my wounds weren't on my hands, but Catherine doesn't want Lindsey to know that. Maybe she doesn't want to explain it to the early teen or maybe she doesn't want Lindsey to go through the pain of realizing I'm crazy.

"Mom said you were." So at least they told her that much.

There's still this weird look on Lindsey's face that I can't interpret. I'm not an expert at reading her facial expressions and it's been a while since I've had the chance to. Maybe I should just take a chance.

I pull my hand gently away from Catherine's grasp and grab the towel she's holding limply in her free hand. I put the towel around my bleeding hand and walk over to Lindsey. I bend down to her level and do something that doesn't feel comfortable for me at all.

My arms curve around Lindsey's small body and I pull her tenderly to me. Her scrawny little arms wrap around my neck and the force of her grip surprises me. She's even choking me a little. I had no idea her little body held so much strength, so much strength actually to hold onto me.

"I'm okay, Lindsey." I whisper into her hair. "I'm okay."

There's some form of wetness hitting my shoulder and running down my shoulder blade. It tickles as it runs down my back, but I don't smile or squirm or anything. I just hold onto Lindsey wondering when she'll let go of me and let me breathe normally again.

"They wouldn't let me see you," Lindsey tells my shoulder. "They said you were sick and couldn't have visitors."

Well I think I've had a lot of visitors, though none of them have been Lindsey's age. Maybe that makes a difference or somethin'. I'm sure whatever decisions that Catherine and Sara made about Lindsey was in Lindsey's best interest and maybe partially in my best interest too, though it might have been nice to be consulted about some of the decisions.

"I was…" What? Sick? I can tell her everything is fine now except for the bleeding. "I am still sick, Lindsey, but I'm getting better." The truth.

Finally Lindsey releases her grip on me and pulls out of my supportive hold. "What kind of sick?"

What kind? I don't know what kind. I'm all kinds of sick. That's what the doctors were telling me. Maybe this is the question I shouldn't answer. I should leave this one to Catherine, but when I turn and look at Catherine I know she's not going to take control of this conversation now. Nikki hasn't said a single word during Lindsey and my little exchange so I don't think she's going to say anything now. As far as I know, Nikki just met the girl today.

"Do you know what bi-polar disorder is?" I certainly don't have a grasp on what it is yet so hopefully Lindsey is a very smart girl who has an interest in behavior disorders.

"I think so," Lindsey answers slowly telling me that she really doesn't have a clue what it is at all.

"Well, it's a disorder that can effect how a person behaves." Maybe I should pull out a pamphlet I was forced to take home with me and throw it at Lindsey. I can tell her to read the thing and if she happened to have any questions to Google it on the internet. "It makes their behavior real screwy." Yeah I'm doing an excellent job here. "Sometimes people who have it make decisions that aren't so good cause their brain isn't working right. Like, they might think it's a good idea to take off all their clothes in the middle of winter and run around the block, even though you know it's a bad idea."

I'm not sure if Lindsey is getting this at all. I just need to wrap this up. "I have bi-polar disorder. Sometimes I would do things that were really bad ideas and I would get really sad for a long period of time and it made me really sick."

"How did you get it?" Well there's another question I can't quite answer. She's good at coming up with them.

"No one can really say. It's partially genetic, but my family history probably contributed to me actually getting the disorder." That's what the doctors said.

"Your family history?" I think that's officially one too many questions.

"Lindsey," My voice sounds a little more frustrated than I want it to, but I mean come on. I can't answer all these questions calmly and collectively. She's lucky I answered what I did. "Let's not get everything covered in the first fifteen minutes of seeing each other, okay?" My voice is a little better this time. "I'm not going to suddenly disappear."

"You did before," She quickly throws back in my face.

"I'm on some medication that will stop me from suddenly disappearing, okay?" Lindsey doesn't look like she completely buys it but she's going to let it go for now, which is good cause I'm still losing blood.

Sara and Greg come into the kitchen in mid-conversation. It ends by the time they both see Lindsey and me facing each other and blood running down my hand. Sara forgets the nerd and comes over to me. "You broke your hand open again?" It's more of statement than a question.

"Yeah, I might need to give up using my hands altogether." By the time they actually get a chance to heal they'll have deep scars on the flesh. There's no way I'll be able to forget what happened this time.

"We need to get you cleaned up," Catherine says from somewhere behind me and I agree with her completely cause that sounds like an escape to me.

I stand up and walk across the kitchen back to Catherine. She puts her hand on the small of my back and leads me out of the kitchen. The last thing I hear is Sara introducing Nikki to Greg.

"You handled Lindsey really well," Catherine tells me as we reach the downstairs bathroom. "You acted very mature."

"Just told her what she has a right to know," Catherine might take that as a personal attack, but I don't mean it that way. The way I see it, Lindsey is part of this family and she has every right to know that I'm working on certain things.

Catherine's eyes are turned to my hand as is all her attention. "You're right."

"I mean, it's not like we could hide things from her forever or anything." I don't know why I'm explaining myself. There's no reason for me to. Catherine isn't arguing with me.

Smooth fingers run gently across my opened cuts. "Melinda, sometimes a parent just wants to protect their children as much as they can even if at times hiding them away isn't the best choice."

Well, I'll have to take her word for that. I've never been a parent. I'm just now having to get used to being a child that matters.

"Is everything okay?" Sara's form appears in the doorway and her reflection in the mirror looks a little worried.

"Yeah, Lindsey and I seeing each other was a little bit of a surprise." I shrug. It's all I can really do.

Sara steps fully into the bathroom making the small space a little bit crowded. "Is it too soon?" Her hand goes on my shoulder and I'm now sandwiched between Catherine and Sara.

"Lindsey shouldn't have to stay away from her home," It's wrong of me to be the cause of that. "Plus, she might need to get used to seeing a few things." Not that I want the kid to get traumatized or anything. I should be the one to leave, really, but where would I go? Nikki would let me go with her, but I can't ask her to support me. She's not made of money. Last I heard, she was working retail and I don't think I'm in any condition to hold down a job at this particular moment.

"We can see how things go," Catherine offers and that may be the only plan we'll ever be able to come up with again.

Silence fills this small space and Catherine is intently working on patching my hand back up. Sara stands behind me with a hand on my back that I'm not even sure she knows is there. I'm staring down at my hand. Right now, for me, this is all that exists.

I'd like to ask why Greg was the one bringing Lindsey over. I'd like to ask what Sara and Greg were talking about in the other room. I'd like to ask a lot of things, but looking at my hand is good enough right now.

I'm just going to see how things go when we leave this bathroom and have a meal with everyone sitting at the table. I probably shouldn't call Greg a nerd to his face, though.


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

After I dial the last number, the phone begins ringing and my hopes that the number had changed are quickly dashed. My only realistic hope now, is that no one will answer. I don't want to leave a message on a machine, but a machine at this point is a little more preferable than talking to an actual person.

Ring three comes and then ring four and I'm gearing up to leave a message along the lines of, 'Jenny, this is Melinda. I'm out of the hospital, bye' but my hopes are dashed when the ringing stops, a connection is made and Jenny's voice greets me.

At the moment, I really can't remember why I let Nikki talk me into this. Everyone, including Greg for some strange reason, is sitting downstairs enjoying something or other in the living room and I'm stuck up here in my room with a phone attached to my ear cause I said I'd give Jenny a call and Nikki held me to it. She wouldn't let me forget about it actually.

After we finished eating breakfast Nikki took me aside and helpfully reminded me that I still needed to give Jenny a call. The only reason why I bothered to listen to her and go upstairs into my room is because a part of me knew that she was right. Jenny did deserve a phone call from me. For all I knew, she didn't even know I was out of the hospital yet. Hence my brilliant idea for the message.

"Hello?" Jenny asks from the other end for probably the fourth time. She's not getting annoyed like some people would, but then again she has caller ID so that probably let her know that someone from the Catherine Willow's residence is calling her.

"Hey," My voice sounds a little scratchy. "I was just calling because I've been told that you've been trying to get in contact with me." I sound formal like I don't really know who I'm talking to, but I do know Jenny. It's her that really doesn't know me.

"I wanted to see how you were doing," she doesn't sound any less formal than me, but I'd just guess that's because she's following my lead.

"I'm still alive," I respond making a conscious effort to lighten my tone. "I guess that's something more than a few of us expected."

"But how are you doing?" She's concerned, which just proves to me again that Nikki is right. Jenny can't turn off love like I can, like I've had to in order to be a survivor.

"I'm doing okay, better." At least now I sound like myself or at least sound a little more normal to my ears.

"Good. That's really good."

Silence fills the emptiness that has come between us and this conversation has managed to come to an abrupt end sooner than I expected it to. I was willing to dedicate a full ten minutes to this phone call but it seems like one was enough. One minutes seems like it might have actually been a gross overestimate.

There's a beep on my end signaling someone is trying to call putting to use the little invention of call waiting. "Look, Jenny, I'm glad we've gotten a chance to talk a little bit but someone is calling on the other line and I'm sure it's important." I haven't even checked to see who it is. "We'll talk again, sometime." I don't wait for an answer. I click the phone over to the other line thankful for my escape.

"Willow's residence," My voice is formal again but isn't nearly as strained.

"May I speak with Catherine, please?" I don't recognize the man's voice but that doesn't mean much. I'm not really acquainted with too many of Catherine's friends. I'm not really acquainted with Sara's friends either. "You can tell her Grissom is calling."

The name sounds familiar, but it's not hitting on any particular memory. "Let me go see what she's doing, hold on." The formality is gone now.

I jump off my bed and run downstairs to inquire about Catherine's whereabouts and am told she went upstairs to take a shower. I don't bother looking for her anymore. "Catherine is currently indisposed, can I take a message?"

My eyes take a quick survey around and I don't find any paper or anything to write with, so I'm just going to try and remember whatever it is he says. "Just tell her that Grissom called and needs to talk to her as soon as possible."

The guy sounds really serious. "Well if it's an emergency or something, Sara is around."

"Sara's there?" he sounds a lot more surprised than anyone should be by that. Sara is always here.

"Yeah, and she's not busy. Did you want to talk to her?"

There's that uncomfortable silence again, and I don't even know this guy or at least I don't really remember him.

"Just tell Catherine that Grissom called." He says shortly then hangs up. I don't even get a goodbye.

When I walk back into the most inhabited room of the house, everyone turns to look at me but Sara is the only one that asks why I was looking for Catherine. I tell her that some guy named Grissom called and something in her face shifts. It would seem that this Grissom guy might be somewhat important.

Sara asks me if he asked about her, and me being the smart person I am these days, I tell her that he didn't but that I told him she was around. It doesn't seem like she's very happy with my reply.

"Did I do something wrong?" I don't look at Sara when I'm asking, but I look at Greg who, for the first time since he got here, isn't talking. He's a really nervous little guy who seems to fill in is insecurity with too many words. That would be almost the exact opposite of me; it may be the exact opposite of Sara too. Maybe that's why she seems to be friends with him. Although, he really does annoy me.

"No," Sara gets up from her place on the couch. "You didn't do anything wrong."

She starts walking out of the room and towards the staircase. I think I know who she's running to, and think it's only best I follow her. "So what's so bad about this Grissom guy?" I ask to her back as she and I go quickly up the stairs.

"He was my boss. I think you met him once," Sara answers distractedly.

"Was?" Maybe Sara and Catherine don't have jobs anymore or maybe it's just Sara that doesn't have a job anymore. I still don't remember the last time either one of them left the house to go to work.

We stop at the top of the stairs and look at each other. Sara looks at me like she's debating whether or not she wants to tell me the truth or at least tell me what's going on. They've been really good about not filling me in on what's been going on since, well since I completely lost it. Like, they didn't tell me that Lindsey was being shuffled around from one person to the next depending on who had the time to take care of her. Greg had been taking over the time that Catherine's sister couldn't fill.

I had to find out that bit of information from Lindsey herself. During breakfast, she was regaling me with all her tales of what she's been doing while the rest of us were 'away'. It doesn't seem like she had that horrible of a time, but I can still tell that she missed us.

I feel bad about that. I kinda forced her out of her home and took her parents away and even disappeared myself. That couldn't have been easy for her and it all happened because of me. I mean, I realize it's not like I did any of this on purpose but it still happened.

Since I've had some free time on my hands, I've had a chance to evaluate some things. It's not something I try to do often and it's not something that is easy to do at all, but the life that existed here without me was a lot easier than the one that exists with me. When I walked into Sara's life, first as her sister not knowing anything differently, I changed everything. Her relationship with Catherine was turned to a slow burn and even the time she spent at work I think lessened.

Even now, I wouldn't call myself the easiest person to live with and I'm hesitant to blame everything on the disorder. I'd hate to think that everything I did could be attributed to this one little thing going on in my brain that the doctors can't even really explain to me to a point where I feel satisfied.

Do I feel any different since I started to take the medicine? Yeah, I guess I do but it's like I feel normal but with chains on. It's like my brain has slowed down to a slow laborious walk instead of the full out sprint it was in before. I guess I do almost feel like a different person, but it's kind of scary because my thought processes have changed.

When I get back in school, if I ever get back to school, I don't know what will happen. I don't know if it'll be as easy anymore. I'm not sure if all the sudden I'll turn stupid cause the way my brain works is being changed by these medications that are the best science has to offer at the moment.

Sara is still standing in front of me, and I'm just now realizing that she's been talking but I've been nowhere near listening. I hope she hasn't been confessing anything deep and meaningful to me, cause I'm just not paying attention. I do catch her last sentence or fragment of a sentence, "but I wanted to."

I'm sure if I tried to use contextual clues I might be able to figure out what it is she's talking about, but I don't have a lot of context to work with. She chose to tell me whatever it is or was going on with her and her job, something I've found means a lot to her and I choose to take a brain rant instead of focusing on what it was she was trying to tell me.

It wouldn't be out of line to call me a little bit self-absorbed. "You're going to go back right?" Hopefully she didn't answer this already in her confession to me. "I know how much your work means to you."

She doesn't get any weird looks on her face and she doesn't look like I'm asking something that isn't a valid question, so that must mean I'm going to get away with missing this moment that was supposed to be between us.

I've had a lot of moments lately.

Sara opens her mouth to answer me and this time I make extra care to pay attention. "When you're good enough to start up your life again and if I'm able to work things out so that I can go back, then I'll go back to work. You mean a lot more to me than my work."

I really wish I knew what she said before. I wish I could hear the story again just so that I could know what she really did give up for me. Did she tell Grissom that she had to leave because her daughter needed her? Did she claim a family emergency over the phone with him then skip town? Did she have Catherine tell him or did they both tell him that they were leaving together?

Catherine comes out of her bedroom, looking fresh and ready for a new day but stops short when she sees Sara and me standing at the top of the stairs facing each other. "Is there something wrong?" she asks immediately directing her attention to my body, looking me over probably searching out blood or tears whatever would signal that I'm in yet another moment of turmoil.

But despite my hand bleeding earlier, which has since stopped, and my little discussion with Lindsey, which has since been put on hold until a later time, and even before that the discussion I had with Nikki, which leaves us in a state of flux, and talking to Jenny on the phone, which was surprisingly empty of any real meaning, and learning that Catherine has a history with Cocaine, which is something we might get to talk about more at a indefinite later, today has been a good day. Perhaps a little full, but ultimately better.

This is the kind of day I've been looking for for a while now. I'm not in the hospital, and haven't had any flashbacks about my grandmother. I haven't even had to deal with my biological father. I've been thinking about him and sort of expect him to pop back up at any moment, but today he's not around.

"Nothing's wrong," Sara eventually replies. "Grissom just called."

The name grabs Catherine's attention and she focuses on Sara. I bet she assumes Sara was the one to talk to him. "What did he have to say?"

Sara can't answer the question, so I take up the job. "He just wants you to call him back."

"You talked to him?" Catherine asks her attention was again fully on me.

I shrug. "It wasn't anything in depth and meaningful. He asked for you, I told him you were busy, then I told him Sara was around, he wanted you to call him back."

"You told him Sara was here?"

I really wish I heard what Sara was saying. "Yeah, it may have given him a slight pause but it didn't seem like the world was ending or anything."

"Then he probably just wanted to know when I was going back," Catherine says looking at Sara, making me wish just one more time that I paid attention to Sara's words.

"And you're going back when?" She looks like she's dressed for work at the moment, now that I move my eyes away from her face down her body. She's in very work-like attire.

Catherine blinks a couple times before she answers me. I don't have a clue as to what those blinks meant. "Today. All my paid time off and vacation time is gone. I didn't figure that both Sara and I could resign."

So Sara resigned. "Well then you should get going so you're not late," I step away from my position atop the stairs so that she could move down them if she so chose.

"You're okay with this?" She steps up to me and does that comfort thing again by putting her hand on my shoulder.

Personally, I don't know why she's asking my permission. It's her job and her life, really. She's the one that has to decide to go back to it. "I think I've got enough babysitters for the night, Catherine, and someone has to earn a living around here. I'm probably not going to hold down a job anytime soon." I'm not even sure I could get a job, what with the interviewers looking at my hands and all. I really want them to heal along with all the scarring that have left my arms eternally marred.

When they first took off my bandaging at the hospital, to just change them, I wanted them to immediately put them back on. While I was alone in Nikki's bathroom that night, I managed to cut up both of my arms almost up to the elbow. I don't remember what I was trying to do that night even though I've been asked to answer that question a couple of hundred times now. It was one of the favorites the doctors asked, 'What were you trying to accomplish?' well hell if I know.

The best answer I can give is that there was a razor in the bathroom I don't remember picking up and I was remembering something that was really traumatic and when I came to Catherine and Sara were standing above me and I had blood all over my hands and arms. I'm not even sure I realized that it was my blood. At that moment huddled in Nikki's bathroom that blood was Laura Sidle's. It's crazy, I know, but it wasn't mine.

That might be something my therapist wants me to share with her.

Suddenly I realize that I'm stuck in my head again when I should be paying attention to the two other people standing here with me. Lucky for me neither of them has been saying anything. "Are you okay?" Catherine asks me and I don't think she's asking about what I think of her going back to work again.

"Better." That's more than I've accomplished in a long time.

Catherine nods and I decide it's probably best I leave Sara and her alone now. They've got to talk about stuff, like they usually do and I'm not supposed to be a part of some of those conversations. I kind of get that now, even if the curiosity hasn't gone away yet. But I bet that when I went downstairs this morning and saw them huddled up on that bench outside they were talking about Catherine going back to work today.

Maybe Catherine is having problems with the idea. Maybe she feels like she's abandoning me or Sara or maybe even Lindsey or maybe just all of us. Maybe she had nightmares last night about seeing me in the victim's face instead of the actual victim.

The two of them probably talk about stuff like that.

And I'm not sure I want to be part of those conversations. Not really.

So I should walk away now so they can have that one last conversation, before Catherine goes off into the world. For some reason, that I can't even remotely try to understand now, I lean over and place a delicate kiss on Catherine's cheek. "Thanks," I whisper to her as I pull away.

They're both looking at me like I'm completely insane so now it's really time to leave before they start asking questions. I turn and fly down the stairs leaving the parentals alone. I get downstairs and return to the room occupied by the other people in this house. They're still all sitting around the living room watching something or other on TV. Greg is talking to Nikki, it almost sounds like he's flirting with her but Nikki for the most part is ignoring him.

She must realize I'm finally back, cause she turns and looks at me and smiles. She hops off the back of the couch and approaches me. I bet she's going to ask if I'm okay.

"Is everything going okay? Something happen?"

It's a common question these days. "Not really," I shake my head. "Just some stuff about Catherine's work and Sara's former work." I pause for a moment debating my next question, but ultimately decide it's worth the shot. "You know what happened with their work situation?"

"Not really," Nikki shrugs. "I asked about it once and they said they took time off. Although, I kind of got the feeling it was a little more than that. Well, to be specific, Catherine said she took some time off and Sara said she flat out quit. She's the one that stayed with you in the beginning."

Was there a beginning? If there is then I would put it at the moment I was born. "So what did you do about your job?" Suddenly I feel like I'm waking up to the world around me. Time means something again now, so that means that what people do with their time means something too.

Nikki smiles, "I told them they could kiss my ass."

That sounds like something Nikki would do. "So what are you going to do about your apartment?"

Nikki takes my hand and runs her thumb across the back of it. "Something more important came up instead of worrying about rent."

So when I stopped, everything just stopped with me? That doesn't seem right. Cause, like that would mean that possibly if I stopped forever then they might not start up again either, but wouldn't they have to anyway? What with the whole world keeps on spinning thing?

But the world didn't keep spinning for them. All of them made it stop until I started up again. That's why I thanked Catherine. That's why I'll thank Sara and Lindsey and Nikki and even little nerdy Greg.

I hear footsteps on the staircase and since there's a pair of them I assume it's time for Catherine to leave now. It's time we all see Catherine off to work cause she's the breadwinner now. We're certainly a representation of the modern day household or at least some skewed version of it. Either way when Catherine reaches the door I hug her goodbye and tell her to be safe. It's kind of the family thing to do.

I'm getting more into family things. But then again, I might be getting more involved in the life thing too and the reason for living it.


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42**

"So are you going to, like, act all crazy and stuff forever?" Lindsey wanted to have a sleepover tonight with Nikki and me, and my guilt being what it was, I agreed to it. I don't have a lot of experience with sleepovers, but if I base them all on the current experience I'm having with Lindsey then that means the word 'sleep' is misused in the word sleepover.

We're all spread out on the floor tonight since I thought it was only fair that if all of us didn't fit on the bed then no one would sleep on it. Lindsey is between Nikki and me asking more questions than I thought was humanly possible.

"I don't know," I answer the younger girl through a long sigh. "As long as I take my medication and keep up with everything, then chances are that I won't actually go crazy, again, like you're so fond of putting it."

"But you're going to have to take the medication your whole life." Lindsey props herself up on her elbow as she tells me this so she can look at me while she's informing me of something she apparently thinks I don't yet understand myself yet.

"Yeah it looks like."

I lift up my head and peer over Lindsey's body to get a quick look at Nikki, or at least the best look I can get in the dark. She looks like she's sleeping but that's probably because Lindsey already played twenty-thousand questions with her earlier.

"So what happens if you forget to take it?" Lindsey seems really worried about this now.

"Well I tell you what, why don't you help me make sure I remember so nothing bad happens. You'll be able to help me get better." I think what I'm doing involves something with an Olive Branch or something here cause it's really not like I need another person to help me remember to take the medication. I've got plenty of those already. They're all afraid of what will happen if those pills aren't popped into my mouth on time.

I can't say that I'm not afraid of what will happen if I stop taking them either, though. I guess I'd go back to normal, which means I'd go back to abnormal since that's what I am.

Lindsey nods her head very seriously, and I know from now on I can expect her to be on top of my pill popping behavior. Every time the hour falls when a pill needs to be in my mouth I'll have plenty of people reminding me to make sure I swallow.

"You should go to sleep now, Lindsey." I'm tired of talking about this. It's not exactly something I'd choose to converse about for the entire night. If Lindsey has anymore questions she can ask her mother them. I can't keep up with having to explain to her how messed up I really am.

It's pretty obvious that Lindsey gets the way I'm feeling because she de-props herself and lays fully on her back. I can see her staring up at the ceiling and it's almost like I can hear her pushing back everything she still wants to say to me. It might be unfair that I haven't given her all the answers she wants, but I can't keep this conversation going all night.

Like most things in my life, I guess, I need to take things in little doses. I've got to learn what I can handle now so that I don't go off acting crazy or insane. I'm positive that I can't handle Lindsey tonight. I probably won't be able to handle her tomorrow night either.

I almost feel like I've gone through social paralysis since I got out of the hospital, though I've actually probably felt like this my whole life but I had the disorder to keep me somewhat unaware of it. Before the big "D", I didn't worry about what others thought of me as much. I didn't think about much beyond what I was doing or what was happening to me.

My parents were horrible parents. They didn't exactly nourish my social skills. They didn't exactly nourish anything except probably my disorder.

So now that the veil has been pulled away. Now that I can see who I am and how I act without that thing in my brain telling me not to look because it doesn't matter, I'm afraid. I'm afraid of dealing with people. I'm afraid because I don't know who I am.

Before I never had to learn because I didn't care. I didn't need to care. All I wanted was to get out of my environment and to run away from my experiences not just physically but mentally as well.

Well, now I care. I care that I'm telling Lindsey that I can be dangerous to myself and to others. I care that I have to deal with telling her anything at all. What's worse, I care of what she thinks of me. I haven't known her long enough to care about that. I've never known anyone long enough to really care about what they think.

Possibly, I cared about what Sara thought. Possibly I cared more about that than I want to admit to myself, but Lindsey is new. Catherine is new. Everything that is in my life at this moment is new. Not only is my reality completely different than what it was not even a year ago, but my eyes and the way I see things feels different too.

I'm really slow in wanting to blame it all on the "Disorder". I'm really slow to blame it on anything really. Who am I to hand out responsibility? I can't even touch anything close to what is responsible. I've run from that big 'r' word for what seems like my entire life.

In the beginning, I never handed the responsibility to those who raised me for my behavior. As far as I was concerned, I grew up in a normal household. Didn't all parents treat their kids like shit? If they didn't then that was news to me. A lot of things became news to me in those definitive early years.

It's official now, I can't sleep. Maybe Lindsey asked me too many questions and got me thinking way too much. Right now, although I don't really feel like I could complete the conversation with Lindsey it would at least give me something to do instead of guarding away the ceiling from miraculously crushing down on us.

I turn to Lindsey but she's already asleep. That makes me wonder how long I've been lost in my head again. There's no clock within my direct view so time once again escapes my acknowledgment of its existence. Nikki is asleep too and basically I'm left up all alone.

Last night I didn't get much sleep either. I hardly slept at all. Logic would assume that I'd be really tired now, but I'm not tired. If anything, I feel wide awake and ready for something to happen. Maybe I can stay up because I'm waiting for that something, or maybe these pills I'm on are effecting my sleep behaviors. I should read the entire list of things these pills can do to me instead of just those side-effects which put me near death.

Perhaps I'll do that now. It sounds like as good of an idea as any other.

Since I'm already on the floor, my feet have nowhere to drop to. Instead, I plant my feet and lift myself up. I'm used to not relying on my arms for much support these days, so my legs are used to the added work. No one stirs when I remove myself from our makeshift bed or when I open the door and sneak out.

If I had to take a guess, then I'd guess that everyone around me is really exhausted. I'd even go as far as saying that they have a right to be. It takes a lot to keep up with me. It always has taken a lot to keep up with me.

My pills are actually in my room, so reading the label or whatever came in the bag from the pharmacist isn't my goal. I have no urge to read anything at the moment. Reading might cause me to think even more.

So I make my way downstairs and don't stop until I'm outside in the backyard on that bench. The cool night breeze feels good on my skin that I haven't even realized was overheated until this very moment. Getting outside in some relatively fresh air doesn't feel so bad either. I haven't been given a lot of outside time lately.

When the back door opens I jump a little and turn around to see who is going to bother and check up on me. I can't be without company for too long before someone comes and seeks me out. There's no such thing as my own personal space anymore. I think I gave that up when I scared the hell out of everyone and almost died.

It's Catherine this time who makes sure my alone time is shortened to about three minutes. She has a glass in her right hand with what looks like some sort of alcoholic beverage in it. Her clothes are wrinkled and she looks like she's gone ten rounds with a person exactly like me but lost the fight.

She sits down next to me and holds her cup out for me to take from her. Without thinking I take the cup from her and take a sip. It's not an alcoholic beverage. It's just diet soda. I haven't seen either her or Sara pick up a single alcoholic beverage in a long time.

I'm not too compelled to ask why that is either.

"You really are addicted to caffeine if you're drinking it at this hour," I set the cup on the ground. "I thought the point of the night time was to go to sleep."

"If that's your definition then why are you still up?" Catherine curls her feet under her and looks out across the yard. I don't think she's made eye contact with me at all.

"Lindsey got me thinking, something I've been trying to tone down on doing lately."

Catherine nods. "Sara told me that Lindsey would be sleeping with you and Nikki tonight. That's really nice of you to do that for her."

I can't help the sardonic snort that comes from my body. "She deserves more from me than just my niceness."

"Maybe." Catherine releases a long sigh. "Maybe she deserves more from all of us."

So maybe Catherine had a really bad day at work. It was only her first day back. First days aren't always the best days. "So how was that first day back?"

Now Catherine looks at me. Her eyes are clear in the moonlight and I don't like what I see, because I see that she's about to talk to me about something that is going to make me think again. These are the times where I wish for my 'old' self to come roaring back, because if I was that 'old unmedicated' self I wouldn't sit here and wait to hear what Catherine has to say. I wouldn't care to listen at all. But because I am medicated and because I'm too comfortable to move in this uncomfortable environment, I'll stay.

Catherine releases another long sigh. "Working has never been harder to do than it was today."

"Las Vegas have some kind of mass murdering spree that I failed to hear about on the news?" It's not out of the realm of possibilities considering I don't watch the news, but I'll put forth a guess and say that's not what's got Catherine down.

"No," she looks away from me again and is focusing on some spot in the dark that I can't quite see. It's probably some spot that I'll never be able to see. "It's all too personal now. In every face I looked at I saw you or Lindsey. I even saw Sara once or twice."

I feel very unqualified for this conversation. Now would be a good time for Sara to pop up and surprise us all with her presence. But I don't think that's going to happen. I think my chances for that are really slim at this point. "So is this because of how I was when you, uh, saw me? Before? In Nikki's bathroom?"

Despite the question being completely disordered in the asking, I think it was surprisingly perceptive. Maybe I'm learning something from all that psycho talk I've been having to put up with lately, or maybe it's just that I can't get the picture of looking down at my cut up, mangled flesh out of my mind. Maybe every time I enter any bathroom at all I can see myself on the floor completely lost to the world.

Catherine is still focused on that distant point, and if she wasn't thinking about how I looked at that moment in Nikki's bathroom then she probably is certainly thinking about it now. "That's part of it."

Her voice is strained and I swear that she's about to cry or something. Have I ever seen her cry before? Am I ready to see that now? "Maybe you need more time. I know I'm not up to jumping back into school or, well or anything else."

"And if I can't ever get over it? What then?"

Does she even remember who she's talking to now? I'm not the first person she should talk to about this stuff. I'm more than willing to go upstairs and wake Sara up. She can handle this situation and I can go back up to my room and go back to fending off the ceiling.

"I've still got all that money, I think. You and Sara could use that for a while until everything gets a little better." It's the best thing I have to offer. It's the only thing I can offer her.

"It's not just about money, Melinda." So she does know who she's talking to. "It's about getting on with our lives."

"So you noticed that your lives sort of stopped too, huh?" Here I was thinking I was the only one. Their worlds stopped because of me and I don't know how to start things back up again. That's really what I should be thinking about these days. How do I make sure that everyone keeps on going even if I don't?

"And it happened so quickly. I don't think any of us noticed how quickly, and now a lot of things have changed. A lot of things inside of us all have changed."

"Yeah. I'm starting to catch onto that myself."

"So how do we begin again?"

She's not asking me this. She's asking the sky, maybe she's asking God, but Catherine doesn't seem like the type to ask God for anything. Neither of us are the type to ask the Big G for anything.

I completely understand why she's asking now.

"We begin by taking a hint from Nike and just doing it."

At least I get a very small, hardly even there, wouldn't see it unless I was looking for it smile from Catherine. "That's the plan?" The smile has turned possibly into a grin.

"Yes. That's the only plan I have. I say, we just keep on doing it until we find our normal again, which inevitably will fall far away from anyone else's normal."

Catherine's eyes focus once again on me. They look clearer. She looks better. I'd like to think that maybe I have something to do with that. It's possible that I do. "You're a really good person, Melinda."

I wasn't expecting that. "And you're a good person too?" I stumble over my words but at least I don't ramble on into another topic.

Now I see a real smile. "I mean it. You really are a good person and it amazes me every day how good a person you are, despite everything. The same thing amazes me about your mother. That's probably why I love you both so much."

"And you're a good person too and I mean that too." I still sound like I'm impaired in some way from getting my words out correctly, but I do mean it. Even if I just said it as a response the first time, I do mean it. Catherine's a good person. "And I can guess that part of the reason my mom loves you so much is because of how you've stood there with us through everything, and how you're still standing with us."

It's in me right now to tell Catherine that I do love her. It's in me right now to share with her how much she means to me, how much it means that she hasn't turned her back on me. After everything I've done, she's still here. Actually, she isn't just still here because I'm living under her roof. I'm sharing her home. I've become her daughter too.

Catherine nods and maybe she understands what I'm not saying. Hopefully she can get why I can't say anything now even if I don't get it myself. "We should both get some sleep," she gets up and offers her hand to me. Like a fool, I take it and am unexpectedly pulled into a monster of a hug.

I don't resist her touch and I don't hesitate to put my arms around her. It feels good when she hugs me. I haven't had too many experiences when it comes to getting parental affection. I'm starting to clue in on what I've been missing.

"What are you two doing up?" So Sara finally decides to show up too little too late. I pull away from Catherine and stand in front of Sara. She doesn't look entirely innocent right now. She almost looks a little guilty, almost like she's just now deciding to come outside with us once she's noticed our conversation has come to some sort of resolution. I have no way of proving this of course, but that's what I'll hold onto until Sara admits differently.

"We're hashing out how we're going to continue our lives." I tell her.

"We're going to be like Nike," Catherine adds with that smile that I put on her face. I'm just going to take credit for it now.

"So now I'm going to go to bed." I'm still in the mood for hugs, so before I make my escape I put my arms around Sara and give her probably one of the best hugs I've ever given in my life. The only reason why I'd say it was the best is because I meant it. "When I can do it," I whisper into her ear, "I'm going to let you both know just how much I love you."

Faster than I've probably ever moved before, I untangle myself from Sara's arms and make a dash for the back door. I open and close it without looking back and run my way back up to my room where Nikki and Lindsey are still fast asleep. I retake my place on the floor and instead of thinking about what just happened outside, I'm just going to let it go and let it be. There's nothing to really think about this time, because I'm okay with it.


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

It took me forever to talk everyone into it, but they finally caved in and let me leave the house completely alone. It's been almost three weeks since I came home from the hospital and in that time the only reason I leave the house is to go see doctors. I wanted to get out just for the sake of getting out, without any bodyguards and no one sneaking around hiding behind bushes every time I turn around.

Ultimately, I just wanted a bit of freedom and everyone eventually understood that. They just told me that I couldn't go that far from the house and that if I was gone longer than fifteen minutes then I would have to call and check in with them.

It's time I got out of the house before I get too used to being in it. It's my safety net place. It's the fake world that lives inside the real one. My psychologist is saying it's time for me to start participating again in the real world. I have to ease myself back into society, and part of that has to be done alone.

That's really probably why Sara and Catherine and Nikki and even little Lindsey decided to let me go alone, my mental health professional said that I needed to. I'm sure the Doc had to do a lot of yelling to talk them into it, but ultimately if I've got to listen to her and trust her and everything then don't they have to too?

This would all make a lot more since, though, if I actually had somewhere to go to. I'm pretty sure it doesn't count if I just go out alone and don't interact with anyone else. Isn't this supposed to be some kind of personal test or something?

Thus far, I've just been walking around. I picked a direction and went that way. I've been walking for a while now, and my body is starting to remind me that I'm not in the same physical shape as I was just a little while ago. My muscles are starting to get a little sore and I can feel the beat of my heart through the sores that are still on my forearms.

I've still got them all patched up, and it seems like they're healing up nice enough, but sometimes I swear I can feel the cuts more than I can feel anything else on my body. One time, I even caught myself thinking there was blood there when there really wasn't. How funny is that?

All it took was me blinking and the blood went away, but still it was weird. The last thing I need is to start hallucinating about blood flowing down my arms. I don't think anything like that should happen considering I'm actually still talking to all kinds of doctors.

I've got a psychologist for my behavior issues. I've got a psychiatrist for the pills. I've got a medical doctor for my arms as well as a reconstruction surgery lady for further down the line, like when my arms are healed enough to have surgery.

They're all working really hard to make all the scars go away. I even think they genuinely have an interest, besides the money interest, in helping me out. But they are all really insistent that all these scars go away and I'm not sure I want them to.

Cause the way I see it, they want to remove everything and make things normal. They want to take away all the scars and all the pain and make believe like it never existed in the first place. It's like, not only do they want to forget about everything but they want me to forget too.

The sound of a car horn rips my focus away from my arms and I realize I'm about to cross a busy street without looking both ways. I have one foot off the curb.

The car honks again and I place my foot back on the firm ground of the sidewalk. Maybe I'm really not ready to be outside alone yet, walking around freely. My brain has been taking a lot more solitary trips than it used to.

I'm looking at my feet and am even telling them to take me back to Catherine's house. I'm telling them to take me back home, but I'm not moving. I can't get myself to move at all and when my gaze shifts away from my feet and I look ahead of me I can see where I'm at.

I've been walking for a lot longer than I thought I have, because I'm across the street from my high school or maybe it's my former high school. Catherine lives closer to the place than Sara does or rather did, but not too much closer. It's still far enough away for me not to want to walk to it, but I've ended up here anyway.

Standing across from the place, it doesn't look so big. It doesn't look scary. It looks like a school. It looks like any other school I've been in. So I cross the street, this time looking for cars. I walk up to the doors of the school and when I reach them the bell rings. It doesn't take too long before the students are pouring out of the building running away from their little daytime prison, a prison I don't share with them anymore.

So many students rush by me hardly even acknowledging my existence. Some of them look at me like they should know me, but they keep on walking. They don't recognize me anymore. The one that was so popular and the one that captured everyone's attention is capturing no one's attention anymore, at least no one here.

Maybe they want to forget all the scars too.

"Mel?" Or maybe not.

I turn around searching for the body that is attached to the voice.

"I thought you left forever."

I still can't find the body.

"We just heard you went crazy or something."

Maybe I don't want to find the body.

A hand goes on my shoulder and I'm thinking that the voice found me. At first, I don't recognize the face which means I really don't know the name. But the face is familiar enough for me to place reference to. She was at the basketball games. I think she was a cheerleader. I think she might have been good at it. I think she even tried to proposition me once and I think I didn't take her up on the offer because I was still trying to play my cards right with Sara. I only wanted there to be reasons for me to hate her, not any reasons for her to hate me.

Standing here, looking at this cheerleader who I think name's Erin, I realize I was showing a lot of restraint. I guess since I had the restraint that would mean, psychologically speaking, that I wasn't going through a manic episode or something at the time. I couldn't always have been in an 'episode' when I didn't show restraint though. I don't know what to blame on the…thing and what not to blame.

"So are you coming back to school?" I don't answer her, instead I stand and watch her looking at me. Her eyes shift down to my patched up forearms and I can tell she's trying not to stare but there is just so much to look at.

"Does everyone know what happened?" I run my left hand across my right forearm where the cuts are the deepest. I even try to talk myself into believing that it doesn't matter if these strangers know anything about what's happened, or if they know anything at all about me.

Erin shakes her head. "No, I'm sure a lot of it is just lies. You know how things can get around here."

She's still trying to tear her eyes away from my arms. "A lot of it is probably true." I say softly as I stop the motions of my left hand. My arms are starting to hurt even more.

She laughs, but it's not a real laugh. It's a fake one because she doesn't know what to say. "It can't all be true?"

I feel like I'm about to tell her that there really isn't any Fairy Tales that come true. Cinderella's foot really didn't fit in the glass shoe and Snow White is still in the woods playing maidservant to some short old men with questionable morals. "It probably isn't as bad as you heard."

Why should I ruin Erin's perception of things? What does it matter if she knows what happened or not? "I didn't think so." She's smiling now. "So are you coming back to school now that you're better?" Why is she so insistent about this?

"I'm not completely better yet," I hold out my arms giving her full permission to stare now. "These still need to heal up all the way."

Then I hear someone else call my name. It's attached to a face I don't recognize either. Suddenly, more people are surrounding me and I feel the beats of my heart shooting through my arms and I suddenly wish that I hadn't given up the pain medications so soon. When I look down at the cuts I see blood again. It would make sense for them to start bleeding now.

"I need to go," I tell Erin because she's the nearest face for me to focus on. "I don't feel so well."

Before I can walk away, Erin grabs my shoulder preventing me from moving anywhere without throwing her out of my way. She's not that big of a person, but I don't think I could throw her anywhere. I don't think I can throw anyone anywhere anymore. I've gotten weak. I've gotten pathetic.

"Melinda!" I recognize that voice. It's my mom's voice.

I'm surrounded by people so I can't see her, but I don't want to find her. I just want to get away from everyone around me. Why are they attached to me like this? Don't they know that I'm not anybody? Don't they understand that I'm not the person they thought I was?

"We knew you were strong enough to make it through everything," It's some guy's voice that I don't recognize.

"We never thought there wasn't anything you couldn't do," It's someone else's voice I don't recognize.

"I need to go now," I say softly, so softly that I don't think anyone heard me.

My right hand is grabbed and I recognize the touch. It's my mom, it's Sara. She's leading me away from them, telling them that I'm really glad to see them but that I have somewhere to be. She's trying to make me look less like the freak that I am.

She pulls me into the building and through the hallways until we're in a room alone. It's one of the band practice rooms that are mostly always empty. "You had to come here?" She asks me as she pulls me closer to her body and guides my arms around her. "Of all the places you could wander off to, you chose it to be here?"

"I don't think I really chose," I say softly as I pull away from her. I don't want to get blood on her shirt.

"Melinda," She steps closer to me but doesn't touch me. "What's going on?"

"I don't want to get blood on you." I pull my arms up to my chest, hugging the wounds to me. I don't want her to see the blood even.

Sara's face falls and she looks like I just punched her in the gut or something. She reaches out her hand and runs it down the side of my face. "Melinda, you're not bleeding."

I look back down at my arms and without all the people around me and while alone in this room with Sara I realize that she's right; my arms aren't bleeding. The bandages were only put on fresh a couple of hours ago. They're white and pristine and they don't have a drop of blood on them.

My body falls, luckily, against the wall behind me. I slowly slide down its length until I reach the floor. Sara just sits down across from me. We both know that this isn't a good thing.

"This can't happen like this to me again." I don't know if I can live through it all again.

Sara's hands go to my knees. "The doctors warned us that you might start hallucinating again under stressful situations."

"But I just went outside." I'm almost convinced that I'll never find the strength in my voice again. "I just saw people I don't even care about."

"Your, recovery, won't happen over night." She doesn't like the word recovery. I can tell by the way she fumbles over the word like she doesn't even want to say it.

"So I guess this means I'm not ready to interact with the world yet." The doctors were wrong. They can't help me. They don't know anything about this. They can't possibly know.

"We need to give it time." Sara moves from in front of me so that she's sitting beside me. Her arm goes around me and she pulls me to her body.

I swallow a couple of times, trying to figure out what I want to say or if I want to say anything at all. Eventually my brain settles on, "I don't have forever to get better."

"Let's just try to work through today, then."

I burrow further into her body. "Okay then," I speak to her shoulder, "it's only today then. So you followed me huh?"

I'm not looking at Sara's face but I can almost feel the smirk that probably reveals itself. "Of course."

"What about Catherine and Nikki?"

"Catherine and Nikki stayed with Lindsey. We didn't want to make it look like we thought you couldn't handle this."

"I'm glad at least one of you followed me and I'm a little surprised you held off as long as you did." Talking about this is much easier than talking about the other stuff, I think, for both of us.

"I'm surprised you didn't see me when you almost stepped out in front of that car."

"I don't think I was seeing much of anything."

Silence blankets us in this room and it helps make me feel comfortable again. I'm really getting into silence these days. It seems so much less complicated than everything else.

A knock on the door breaks us apart. The world is invading again, and this time it's the vice principle asking us if we're okay. I let Sara handle the situation, cause I don't want to talk to anyone, but as they're talking I do look back down at my forearms. There still isn't any blood.

"Are you ready to go?" Sara asks me.

"There's no rush," The vice principal whose name I've forgotten almost yells at me. "You can take all the time you need, Mel. Though, it really is good to see you up and about."

I ignore him. "Yeah, it'd be good to go." It's time I go back to my safety net and surround myself with my group of safety net people.


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44**

I'm laying back on my bed with my legs hanging over the edge throwing a basketball up in the air. It's been a long time since I've touched this thing. I don't know what prompted me to pick it up now.

It does hurt my arms a little bit, but not enough for me to stop, not enough for me to stop now, at least. Plus, it's got to be some sort of good physical therapy for my arms. It's not exactly what the physical therapist told me to do, but it's something. It's even a little more exciting than the physical therapy crap they give me. That's nothing but me sitting around flexing and un-flexing my hands.

The therapist said eventually I would be going into their therapy center to do more 'intense' work, whatever that means. So I get to add yet another appointment into my stream of appointments. Even if I wanted to go back to school now, I'm too busy to be able to.

After that little, thing, that happened at the school Sara decided that I needed to go see my psychologist as soon as she could fit us all in. I didn't fight with Sara about it because… well I don't think I wanted to. However much me going to the school freaked Sara out, well it might have freaked me out a little more.

I had talked myself into believing that I was getting a lot better, and obviously I was wrong about that. The Doc didn't agree with me about that though. She said that I got overwhelmed and should realize blah, blah, blah.

She also suggested that I up my meds.

So, Catherine is off at work. Lindsey is out having fun with some of her friends from school and Sara is off with them having that fun, which I think is a good thing.

I've started to feel a little guilty about all the attention that has been taken away from Lindsey and put on me. She needs parents too; I think she might need them a little more than I do.

She's at least still got a chance of not ending up like me. That's only if she's got some adult figures in her life, though, because the girl has some things inside her that she's not letting out. I can spot them but I think that's because I know what to look for.

It's not like I think she's going to end up being bi-polar or anything. I just think she's got some things under the surface she's not talking about or dealing with. She's got potential to be a 'troubled' teen. There are so many of us out there today.

"Maybe you should stop it with the ball," Nikki's voice tells me from the doorway of my room.

I throw the basketball up one more time, catch it then throw it off to the side somewhere. I watch it bounce a couple of times then roll into the wall across from me.

"I'm going to get some fresh bandages," Nikki says and I hear her bare feet walking away from the door.

Her comment prompts me to look at my arms and they're bleeding a little bit. I must have been throwing that ball a lot longer than I realized. I look over at the clock on the nightstand near the bed and read the time. I've been in this room for two hours.

I'm surprised Nikki left me alone for that long.

When Sara and I came home after my little adventure out, Sara felt the need to tell everyone what happened. I wasn't exactly against it, but I didn't want to have to deal with it either.

Catherine kind of freaked out, but she held back as much as she could in front of me. She was trying to be worried enough as to not worry me. I don't quite remember what she said exactly, but I know after she said it I felt like I had just been given a "better luck next time" type of pep talk.

She probably would have pulled off the blasé a little better if I couldn't see the worry in her face, the tears forming in her eyes, and her body shaking. I started feeling a little worried for her, actually. I didn't know how much was riding on me going out alone that day, or rather I didn't want to know how much was riding on it.

If that was a test, then I failed.

Nikki took the information in stride. At least she did when everyone else was around. When we were alone she put her arms around me and told me that she was sorry, but never told me what for. She didn't need to tell me because I already knew.

She was sorry she couldn't take the pain away. She was sorry I didn't have a 'good time' out. She was sorry I had to deal with this. She was sorry I wasn't better than I was. She was sorry for everything: sorry she wasn't strong enough to not be disappointed, sorry she hoped I could make it all go away.

Nikki comes back into the room with the bandages and takes a seat next to me. She doesn't do anything with them. She just sits next to me with them. I don't really feel like changing them again anyway.

"This is getting old isn't it?" I stare down at my hands and arms. "They don't bleed as much, but they still bleed."

"That's because you keep on tearing open the wounds," she grabs one of my hands and starts removing the bandage that wraps it. "They aren't really getting a chance to heal."

"I have to use my hands, though, and my arms." I hardly recognize the pain changing the bandages causes me now.

Nikki says nothing in reply and the only sounds that fill the room are that of the tape being removed from my hand. I can't even hear either of us breathing and the house is completely silent. The television isn't on downstairs, Nikki has given up on television and taken up books, and not regular books either. She's reading a list of college books about political science, history, English composition, and whatever else seems like college core curriculum.

I haven't brought up her current reading list. I don't really see the point. She has to do something with her time other than worrying about me, and if that something means that she has an ambition to go to college then that's great. If it means she wants to catch up with what is going on with the college readings today, well that's great too. She's been sitting around waiting for me to break for way too long now.

"I'm going to get my own apartment."

So the silence is broken.

"I can't live off of Catherine and Sara forever. It's about time I get a job again and start paying my own way and maybe start to help paying for all the doctor's bills that have been stacking up."

Nikki has finished applying the last of the bandages and I flex my hands to make sure they aren't too tight.

"So what do you think?"

I guess I've been silent for a little too long. I wasn't sure she wanted a reply from me. I don't know what to tell her. "It sounds good to me. To pay the doctors Sara has started taking out of the inheritance my grandparents left me so I'm sure she won't accept any money from you for that." I didn't even pause that time when I said grandparents. I'm getting better at these label changes.

"Your inheritance?"

Perhaps I'm not getting too much better at sharing information, though. "Yeah, in an irony I can't even begin to understand, my grandparents decided to take out a life insurance policy of some million or something and signed me as the sole recipient."

Nikki props her feet up on the bed and it looks like she's preparing for a long conversation, which is certainly something I haven't had in the last day. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"I don't know what to say about it," I jump off the bed before she can reach out for me and walk to the door. Everyone is out of the house, I should at least have a couple of hours where I don't have to talk about all the important stuff or the emotional stuff or any stuff at all.

I get to the door but Nikki calls out my name and I know my feet will never cross the threshold. "Why did you decide to come to Vegas, Melinda? I never understood why you wanted to come."

"I'm a minor. The authorities aren't too cool with kids my age running around without a legal guardian."

"And you cared about what the authorities said, when?"

I cross my arms in front of me and lean up against the wall. "What is it you're wanting me to say, Nikki?"

Nikki gets up off the bed and walks until she's standing right in front of me. "I want to hear the truth from you."

"I didn't disappear because I wanted to know who she was, Nikki. I wanted to know who my sister was." I push off the wall and past her. "I didn't plan on staying but somehow…" I make a pointless gesture towards the ceiling hoping it can maybe finish my sentence for me. "When I saw her at the funeral I got stuck to her somehow or something and then I got stuck here." I feel a warm hand on my left shoulder but I ignore it. "I never wanted to stay, but somehow I started thinking I had two years with her, there was only supposed to be two years and then I'd leave. I'd have a life of my own without people who beat me or hurt me or…anything."

"And now?" I can feel her breath on the back of my neck.

"I'm not as confident about having my own life and I'm a little more than stuck to Sara now."

"You sound almost disappointed by that."

I turn around to face her. "The stuck to Sara part, I mean," she quickly amends.

"Yeah," I sigh. "I haven't figured that out yet. I consider her my mom, now, I think. And she's proving at least that her guilt from leaving me back then is at least strong enough for her to stick around now."

Nikki gets this look in her eyes. "Do you really believe Sara is sticking around because of her guilt?" she asks me probably already knowing what my answer will be.

"I don't want to, but part of me is convinced that's how it really is."

"Then, in your head, why is it that Catherine is sticking around?"

"Because she wants to." Things are simpler with Catherine. They have been simple since the first day I met her. We don't have any history standing between us, but that doesn't mean she'll stay forever.

"Sara loves you, Melinda."

"I don't think that she doesn't." My body deflates and I take a small step away from Nikki. "It's really hard for me to believe that anyone will stick around with me because they want to." I whisper. "No one really wanted me with them before, no one who really mattered."

"Should I be offended?" Nikki asks with little seriousness in her voice. She knows I'm not talking about her. I almost expect her to stay around me forever. That's what we're supposed to do for each other. We don't have anyone else, neither of us have really ever had anyone else in the past.

"You should feel privileged I'm talking to you at all," I reply. "Because I know that you're in tight with Sara and Catherine these days."

"Hey," Nikki grabs my shirt and pulls me to her. "Your secrets are my secrets too. I don't tell them anything that you don't want them to know."

"You just serve as a translator," I say to the floor. "You're helping them try and understand me."

She laughs. "Is that really so bad?"

I shrug. "No. I guess it shouldn't be."

"So what's the problem?"

"I don't even understand me, anymore, Nikki. I need a translator for myself because I'm remembering all these things I've done and said and I can't make sense of any of it. I can't make sense of anything anymore." My voice keeps gaining strength as I go on. My eyes have shifted from the floor to Nikki's face. "I don't want to be with Sara but I do want to be with Sara. I don't want to have this family but I do want to have this family. I don't want to expose myself to them but I want to be exposed. I don't want…" I catch myself before I reveal more than I want to admit out loud.

Nikki won't let me let it go. "You don't want?"

"I don't want a lot of things." My voice is soft again.

"You don't want?" she asks again. She's not going to drop this.

"I don't want to be left alone in a corner again bleeding believing I deserve it because I'm not good enough," I swallow and the sound fills my ears. "But part of me still thinks I do deserve to be alone bleeding in that corner because I'm so weak."

"My dad said the same things to me when he, you know." Nikki's hands drop from my body. I've managed to lead us both back into our torturous isolated worlds. "I was a bad girl and my punishment was, you know, and I believed him and I always figured my mom didn't do anything to stop him because she thought I was bad too. She called me, once, weak and pathetic after she knew he had…I started taking heroin that night."

We've done this before. We've talked about our experiences in our homes and it has brought us closer together, but at the same time it separates us because we were in those homes alone. No matter how much detail we put into our retelling of our memories we are always alone in the story. We are always those two little girls who grew up believing something was wrong with them.

"So what is it you're saying to me?" I ask lightly. "Am I supposed to start taking heroin?"

"You didn't let me continue taking heroin so I'm not going to let you start."

"So what is it you're saying to me?" The seriousness is back in my voice.

"Do you believe I'm weak and pathetic and deserved the things I got?"

I get what she's saying. "Of course I don't. I've never thought that and never will. I've said that before."

"Yeah, but sometimes I have a really hard time believing it and sometimes if I do something I still think my punishments should be like they were before."

This time it's me who grabs Nikki by the shirt and pulls her closer to me. "You really need to stop thinking like that."

Nikki smiles, "It's not that easy."

"I know."

"But sometimes people like us, just have to believe something completely different than what our head is telling us. Sometimes even if we are looking at something and our brain is telling us it's blue but everyone else is telling us it's red, then we sometimes have to believe it's red."

"Because our heads are just that messed up?"

"Of course," Nikki responds quickly.

"So do you have any solutions for the hallucinations or the not being able to go out in public and remain sane problems?"

Nikki sighs heavily. "No. I'm sorry, I don't. I wish I did. The only thing I can think of is time and the support of your family: the family who loves you and wants you with them healthy and alive."

I nod and let my doubts go away for the moment. For right now, I'll believe that I might deserve to have a family that loves me and that will help the hallucinations go away.

I can hear the front door open accompanied with the yells of girls. At least one of those voices is Lindsey's.

"I didn't know Sara was bringing Lindsey's friends back with her." Nikki looks across her shoulder towards the open bedroom door.

"I didn't either. I thought I was still too crazy to have company." Nikki gives me a reproachful look but doesn't say anything or at least doesn't get a chance to say anything because the doorway is filled with Lindsey and two other girls I haven't seen before.

"You need something?" I ask Lindsey ignoring the two sets of eyes that are widely opened and staring at Nikki and me.

"Uh," Lindsey looks between Nikki and me then closes her mouth and shakes her head. "Just wanted to say hi?"

"Hi." I say back making sure to direct it to all the younger girls standing at my door.

"Hi." Nikki mimics.

"Okay. Bye." Lindsey runs away from the door and her friends eventually follow her.

Nikki pulls away from me and puts her hands on her hips. "What do you suppose that was about?"

Before I get a chance to answer Sara appears, comes into the room and closes the door behind her. "I tried to call the house, but I didn't get an answer."

"So you rushed over here to make sure nothing bad happened and brought the girlies back with you?" Nikki helpfully fills in some of the blanks in Sara's sentence.

"Kinda," she admits.

"I'm sorry we didn't answer. I didn't even hear it." I offer lamely.

"Neither of us did." Nikki throws in quickly.

Sara nods and it looks like she's going to let this phone thing go. "Okay." She turns around and cracks open the door. "I'm sure if something happened then one of you would have called me." Her statement sounds more like a warning instead of a comment.

I nod. "If I go crazy while you're gone, I'm sure Nikki will call you."

"That's not all I'm afraid of, Melinda." Sara says softly then walks out of the room but before she can close the door for some reason I yell out, "That's not all I'm afraid of either."

Sara looks at me, but doesn't say anything. She just stares at me.

"Nikki says she's moving into an apartment," I say quickly. "You should talk to her about it."

I grab the edge of the door and swing it completely open. "Get me when you're done." I add before I rush through it and cross the hall down to Lindsey's room.

I knock on her door and one of her friend's open it. "Can I play too?"

"We're not playing," Lindsey yells from her bed.

"Then what is it you're doing?"

"Listening to music and studying." She tells me, but I don't see any books out. I've done this kind of studying before.

"Well then I can help you 'study'," I shamefully make air quotes and step into the room mostly ignoring the girl who is standing in front of me. "You should find your manners and introduce me to your friends though." I sounded a little too much like a parent saying that.

Lindsey gives an exasperated sigh, but I know she's only faking her annoyance for the benefit of her friends. Looking at her, I can tell she doesn't mind at all that I've decided to seek her out. She gets this glow in her eyes or this sparkle when I start paying attention to her. It's almost like she enjoys my company or looks up to me or something.

"Lauren, Laurie," Lindsey points to each of the other girls. The one who opened the door is Laurie and the one who is playing with Lindsey's stereo is Lauren. Lauren, Laurie, and Lindsey. Lindsey and I have had very different childhoods. I'm thinking that's a really good thing though.

"So what did you tell the parental you were supposed to be studying?"

"You two are sisters?" Lauren takes her attention away from the stereo to ask Lindsey this all-important question.

Lindsey doesn't answer. She looks at me to do it.

"Of course we are," I say not bothering to look at Lauren.

"Why didn't you say you had a sister?" Lauren's a very curious young lady.

Again Lindsey looks to me to give an answer.

"Probably because she knows I'm a lot cooler than her and she didn't want me to override her cool factor." I can't believe I just said that. I give Lindsey an apologetic look. I'm not good with this kind of stuff. My normal answer would be something along the lines of 'fuck off' or 'what's it to you'.

Lauren gives me her full attention now. I've always had Laurie's. "What happened to your hands and arms?"

"Cut myself," I answer shortly. "So what is it we're supposed to be studying?"

"History," Laurie speaks and her voice sounds very soft. I don't think she's exactly digging my presence.

"Oh. Well I don't like history," I turn around and start walking out the door but Lindsey stops me.

"We're talking about Jared," Lindsey says. "He asked me to the movies when we ran into him at the mall."

"Oh really?" I close the door then run over and jump onto Lindsey's bed. I can fake being normal and interested for Lindsey's sake. "Tell me everything and don't leave anything out."

"Lindsey's liked Jared since, like, the beginning of the school year," Lauren begins filling me in, "and finally he started talking to her after we spread a rumor that Lindsey wasn't afraid to have sex with him."

Lindsey throws a pillow at Lauren as she screams the girl's name out and suddenly I feel like I should have stayed in the room with Sara and Nikki instead of running away from talking about things with Sara, again.

"You did what?" My voice sounds a lot calmer than I think it should.

"I didn't mean it," Lindsey's voice is an irritating whine. "Please don't tell Mom."

"Of course I'm not going to tell Catherine," I reply incredulously. "I don't think she'd want to know her daughter would do something so stupid."

The sparkle in Lindsey's eyes just went away and has been replaced with a pained look instead. I probably shouldn't have used the word stupid. "Don't get me wrong," I say to her managing to bring my voice back down, "I don't think you're stupid. You're one of the smartest people I think I've ever met, which is why it's hard for me to believe you would do something like that at all."

Lindsey shrugs. She doesn't have an answer for me.

"People who like you only because they think they're going to get sex out of you aren't exactly the best kind of people. Believe me, I know."

"It's not really that big of a deal," Lauren takes a seat next to me on the bed. "I'm not a virgin anymore either."

Immediately my head swings back to Lindsey. "You're not a virgin anymore?"

Lindsey reaches out and grabs my arm. "No, I am! I swear!"

"If you tell me differently I'm not going to get mad," I hardly have any ground to stand on when it comes to sex or the amount of partners or the frequency.

"I am," Lindsey squeezes my arm. "I swear."

"I'm not going to preach to you about abstinence before marriage or anything like that, but you are young, Lindsey." I look at each of the girls individually. "Each of you are young and I know you're not that much younger than me but--"

"--Are you still a virgin?" Lauren asks and her question gives me a sudden urge to push her off the bed.

"She's not," Lindsey answers for me. "Nikki and her are girlfriends and they sleep together."

"That's not true!" I reply with a little more force than necessary. "Nikki and I have never had sex, not once. She's not even technically really my girlfriend."

Lindsey's face contorts with her disbelief. "Really?"

"I swear."

"Your sister is gay too?" Lauren asks with her own version of disbelief written on her face. "Do you breed gays here or something?"

"Shut up," Lindsey puts voice to my thoughts.

"Are you gay?" Lauren asks and moves towards the other end of the bed, as far away as she can get from Lindsey and me. Laurie, on the other hand, is still standing off to the side but looking on with a certain amount of interest.

Lindsey ignores the question. "So does that mean you're a virgin?" she asks me instead.

Maybe we should revisit the gay question. "No that's not what that means. I've had sex before but I was older than you when my first time came around and our circumstances were completely different, you know that. Please, Lindsey, all of you really, make better choices than me."

Lindsey look's down at her bed and starts playing with a small thread hanging on her blanket. "So what should I do?"

"Do only what you really want to do. Don't do things because other people want you to do them." I'm feeling like a huge hypocrite and feeling a lot older than I actually am. Next all I need to say is 'stay in school, don't take drugs, and help prevent forest fires'.

"Okay." Lindsey says softly.

"Okay?" I don't know what that means. It can mean so many things.

"I'll only do what I really want to do."

Hearing Lindsey say that doesn't offer me any comfort whatsoever. I remember really wanting to do the majority of things I did that were really bad decisions. Of course, there were those times when everything seemed like a good idea, but I've been told that was the bi-polar in me talking.

I lean closer to Lindsey and say to her softly, "You're trusting me to do my best to get better so I'm going to trust you to do your best in making decisions about your possible future." If that doesn't give her some pause then I'm going to have to talk to Catherine, or maybe I'm going to have to talk to Sara who will talk to Catherine, or maybe I'm going to have to talk to Nikki who will either tell Sara or Catherine or perhaps both of them at the same time.

There's a knock on the door but whoever it is on the other side doesn't wait for an answer and goes ahead and pushes it open. I'm not really surprised to see Sara and Nikki standing there.

"What's going on in here?" Sara asks directing her question completely to me.

"Homework?" I really don't have a better answer than that. "I think it's history homework."

"We were talking about whether she's a virgin or not," Lauren helpfully explains as she points her dirty little finger at me.

"Oh really?" Nikki crosses her arms in front of her and leans up against the door.

Sara has the more parental question of, "And how did this come up?"

"Apparently this is what teenage girls talk about behind closed doors." I shrug. "Who knew?"

Sara and Nikki don't buy it, but at least it seems like they're both going to leave it alone for now. I get up off Lindsey's bed but first give her hand a quick squeeze for some kind of reassurance to her. She needs to know that this conversation is somewhat confidential. "We should leave them alone to the studying."

I walk out into the hallway and Nikki and Sara follow me shutting the door behind them.

"So what's really going on?" Sara immediately asks.

"Can you accept that I think I handled it and if I find out differently then I'll speak up?"

"We're worried about Lindsey, Melinda. If there's something serious going on then I'd really like to hear about it." Sara's eyes plead with me to tell her something, anything at all.

"She's becoming interested about sex and boys." I don't think that's giving away too much. "She's just growing up and is becoming a teenager."

I can tell that deep down Sara doesn't want to accept my answer, but she accepts it anyway. "Okay. So if you find out differently then you'll speak up?"

"I promise."

"So I'm still moving out," Nikki adds into what might become a very long silence.

"I figured you'd eventually would. You have a life you need to take care of and I want you to take care of it." I want everyone to take care of their lives. Maybe if everyone starts being normal then I could start getting back to normal too. The fact that the most normal conversation I've had recently is about my sexual history with a girl who is dealing with the 'sex' issue is frightening almost.

What's the most frightening thing about that, though, was the fact that I was the one sitting there handing out advice like I was some sort of qualified advice giver, but Lindsey did seem to listen to what I had to say. She trusts me to keep her secret to myself and Sara trusts me to handle this sudden responsibility of acting like…well kind of acting like a big sister, and damn it that means something to me now. It means something big and it almost makes me believe that what happened at the school, like my psychologist said, really wasn't that big of a deal.


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45**

"As you can see this apartment is great for two people," Mary, the woman showing Nikki and me around says as she opens the door to what must be the fiftieth apartment I've walked through today. Nikki is being really picky about where she wants to move to for the kind of money she has. When we walked into the apartment office Mary took one look at us and I thought she was going to kick us out. She looked at us like we walked into someplace we definitely didn't belong in.

It probably doesn't help that Nikki decided to do her apartment hunting in loose fitting torn jeans and an army green tank top. She looks good to me, but I don't think her attire screams out 'valuable tenant'. The only reason why the woman even agreed to take us seriously was because we threw out a down payment in her direction in cash and asked her to show us what she had.

Nikki's probably really happy right now that she let me talk her into getting some money out of my account to take along with us for the ride. Her argument against it was that she didn't want to pretend to be something that she wasn't, as in she didn't want to pretend like she had money when she really didn't.

And I'm supposed to be the crazy one.

"The two bedrooms are both very open and we have walk-in closets in both rooms," Mary leads us into one of the bedrooms and walks to a door which I can only assume is the closet. "We have a washer and dryer hook-up and we…"

I don't think I can hear another speech like this one so I choose to interrupt, "Mary, we don't need a two bedroom apartment. I'm not going to be living here."

"Oh," Miss Mary gets a very confused look on her face. "I was sure Nikki asked to look at our two bedrooms."

I take a look over at Nikki and she seems to currently be taking a very high interest in the walk-in closet. I follow her into the space and close the door behind us. "Two bedrooms?"

"Only for if you and Lindsey wanted to stay over," she answers to the shelves built inside the closet.

"You don't need two bedrooms for that. You can't afford two bedrooms for that."

Nikki turns to me with her arms crossed in front of her. "Melinda, look, I'm not going to lie to you. I want you to live with me. I think it might be good if you got away from Sara and Catherine for a while. I mean, take a break from them so that you can give yourself a chance to get better and to give them a chance to settle down a little bit."

"Did you talk to Sara about this?" I can't imagine that she has. I can't imagine Sara thinking in any shape or form that it would be good for me to leave or even good for Nikki to ask me to leave. It took a lot of reassurances just for her to let me leave today to go apartment hunting. This is the first 'real' outing I've had since that little episode I had at the school. I haven't had any hallucinations yet, but then again, the Doc did up my dosage a little bit. I'm still trying to grow accustomed to the change. Every time my meds get messed with, I feel weird for a couple of weeks afterwards. The shit messes with my brain.

My Doc told me that the meds weren't supposed to make me feel really high or really low, they're just supposed to make me feel 'normal'. When she said it I laughed; I couldn't help it. I have no idea what normal is supposed to feel like. I don't know what normal happiness is or normal sadness is or what normal anything is. Every emotional level I experience now is a 'new' experience.

"I mentioned it," Nikki tells me softly. "She wasn't too happy about the plan but she said she was willing to give anything a try."

Her words make my entire body deflate. I feel an emotion coming along. I think some might call this one pain. "Is she that desperate?"

Nikki uncrosses her arms and reaches for my hand. I don't let her make contact. I take a step back and push my back against the door. "Don't touch me…please."

She nods and crosses her arms again.

"Is she that desperate?" I feel the need to ask again since the first time I didn't get an answer.

Nikki does a half shrug. "I think maybe we all are, even you."

There's another emotion coming that's adding onto the pain. Sad. Really sad. "They haven't talked to me about anything." My voice is hoarse but that's probably because I'm trying really hard to hold back all the emotion.

"They don't want to influence you." Nikki offers. It's one of the weakest excuses I've ever heard.

My eyes turn down to my forearms and hands. They're still wrapped up in bandages but they've been doing a lot better. I haven't had any bouts of excessive bleeding recently. Suddenly I get the urge to rip off the bandages and cut everything back open.

It's not the first time I've thought about doing that.

I've talked to the doc about the thoughts too. She tells me that for me they are normal. Apparently, she thinks it has something to do with me punishing myself when I feel I've done something wrong because that's how I was punished when I was a kid. I was hurt and given pain.

So does that mean I feel like I've done something wrong now?

I shake off the thoughts of cutting open the wounds and look back up at Nikki. "I haven't failed yet and I don't plan to either."

The words seem to surprise her. She acts almost as if I've slapped her in the face. Her body falls back a step and her arms drop from in front of her. Her mouth moves but no words come out.

"I think we can hold back on the 'last resort' plans."

Unexpectedly Nikki comes out of her daze and throws her arms around me. She lifts me off the ground and spins me around. I don't fight her, but that's probably because I'm in shock. "What the hell!"

She puts me down and cups my face in her hands. "You're fighting," she says through tears that have seemed to have suddenly appeared from nowhere.

I'm not getting this. "What?"

"Sweetie," Nikki whispers to me, "for the first time in months you're fighting to get better."

"I thought that's what I've been doing?" I can't help but make this sound like a question. I'm confused.

"No," Nikki shakes her head. "You've been struggling to try and get better, but now you're fighting." Her hands drop from my face and go to my own wrapped appendages. "You're even letting these heal."

She might need to call me stupid but, "What?"

"Just take this as something that's really good, okay?" Her shifty hands move to my waist. "Take this moment to realize that when you found out our 'last resort' plan that you didn't hallucinate or start bleeding again or run away or have any flashbacks."

"Were you afraid I was going to do those things?"

"We were very afraid," Nikki tells me. "This wasn't our idea," she admits, "it's your doctors. She thought it would best if we tried removing you from your environment. We were running out of options, Melinda. If getting you away from the house didn't work, she wanted to admit you to a hospital."

"Oh." Nikki moving out suddenly makes a whole lot more sense to me. Sara and Catherine agreeing to her moving out seems to make a whole lot more sense too.

Maybe the upped meds made a difference after all.

There's a knock on the closet door and Mary asks us if we're okay. Nikki opens the door and apologizes to the woman, who I quite honestly forgot even existed. "We got a little sidetracked," Nikki offers as an excuse.

Mary smiles brightly. "Things like this happen." She pauses for a moment then asks, "Did you decide in there that you wanted a two bedroom?"

Nikki opens her mouth to answer but I beat her to it, "You might want to show us a one bedroom instead."

Mary nods completely unaffected by my answer but Nikki doesn't quite have the same reaction.

"The reasons you gave me for moving out, the fake ones, they made a lot of sense to me." It took me a couple of weeks to get used to the idea but once it sunk in it got stuck in my brain as a good thing. "And maybe one of the reasons I'm 'fighting' now" I stop just short of using air quotes, "is because I've realized that if everyone can go back to their lives then I can too."

Mary takes a look between the two of us. "I'm going to go make sure that the kitchen is ready for viewing." She steps out of the room and shuts the bedroom door behind her. I'm beginning to like her a little.

"So you want me to move?" Nikki asks.

Another emotion takes off from where the confusion left off. This one might be called anxiety. "Of course I don't, but you need to. You need to do this just like Sara needs to go back to work. I feel so much pressure from you all, y'know? I mean, everything is dependent on how I'm doing. If I don't do well then no one does well. Everyone's sanity is resting on me and I think I'm just now beginning to realize how hard that has been on me.

"I want you all to have your own lives and to be able to survive without me and now I don't even think that just because I want you to continue on if I die. I think that now because I want you to continue on so that 'I' can discover who the hell I am without trying to carry everyone else's sanity along with me. I want to be able to walk outside without having to think about whether or not everyone in the house is going to survive me being alone. I just want to worry about being alone without anything else attached to it.

"Granted, the first time I kind of completely totally freaked out and I was really happy that my mom was there to help me out because I really wasn't at all prepared to be with the people at school. I wasn't prepared for much really so if I go out maybe I should still be followed. I'm not too sure about that point, but I am sure that I need to see the people I love live so that I can live too." I've only stopped talking because I need to breathe.

Nikki is looking at me wide-eyed.

I take in a big breath. "Maybe I'm only now able to realize this because of the meds. I'm thinking that's probably why. My head is clearing up now but that's not to say that I still don't think bad things or don't want to do something a little crazy, because I have those thoughts every day. I have them just like you have them and probably just like Mom has them. Catherine probably even has them every so often. Lindsey probably does too, but I'm not really sure about her. I'm not talking about them anyway.

"What I'm talking about is that we all have them, probably, and it's what we do with them that matters. The other day I felt really depressed and instead of doing what I normally do, which is dwell on the cuts on my arms, I went downstairs to Sara and Catherine and asked them if they wanted to play a fucking board game. Me! The person who hates Monopoly with a burning passion. That's what my doctor told me to do though.

"She said if I think about something then I need to do something else. I need to distract myself until the thoughts go away, and I'm actually starting to listen to her. I don't know why that is either, but I'm really thinking it probably has something to do with you telling me that you were going to move out. You set off some kind of trigger in my brain or something. So, yes, I think it's probably best that you move out and try to do something with your life instead of waiting for me to drown or swim."

Nikki looks at me for a long moment and I almost feel like ranting some more, but I've run out of rant. "Then I'll move." She says simply well into a way too long silence. "But I'll still get a two-bedroom just in case you ever need it for anything."

I nod, not quite sure if this is a true victory for me.

"You should talk to your parents too," a grin covers Nikki's face. "But you might want to slow down for them and maybe not tell them all that on the same day. If they heard you say so much in one sitting they might admit you into the hospital thinking you're crazy or somethin'."

It's a joke about my sanity that didn't come from me and isn't supposed to be taken negatively. I'm not sure I'm ready to joke about it yet, but I smile for Nikki anyway. Plus, I think she might be tellin' a semi-kind of truth. I'm not exactly a born ranter. Talking too much might send the parentals off balance a little too much.


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46**

When Nikki and I arrive back at the house after our apartment 'hunting' adventure, Catherine and Sara are too casually waiting for us in the living room. They look anxious even though I'm pretty sure they're trying for the cool and easy going look. They've got the same body language talking to me as they have had for the last few months. It's them holding their breath waiting to see if I'm going to bring them news that I'm still falling apart or that I'm getting worse or that I'm having hallucinations.

Sara looks over at Nikki and I catch the quick nod that Nikki gives to my mom. I'm not completely ignorant of the silent communication that goes on between them at times. It's the whole, 'there's a crazy in the room so we have to speak in code' language that they've developed, that they developed mostly out of actual need for it. I'm sure there are times when I really didn't need to know what they were telling each other, but now that I've managed to decipher the code it doesn't really seem necessarily right now.

"I'm not moving out," I say for the benefit of speaking verbally instead of having odd winks, nods and erroneous gestures flung about the room in some kind of weird monkey language that will get us all eventually committed to a mental institution. "Nikki informed me of the Doc's plan to 'remove' me from the situation and all that."

Relief and apprehension cover both Sara's and Catherine's faces. I can feel a long talk coming on right now and I can almost admit that I'm ready for it. For the most part, on our way back here Nikki and I were silent in the car. I was gearing myself up to talk to these two adults and I can only assume that Nikki either knew and respected that or just didn't have anything she wanted to say to me.

I move over to where Catherine and Sara are sitting and take a seat across from them on the coffee table that is in front of the sofa they are 'casually' sitting on as they watch the weather channel. I've heard stories that a while ago they were actually cool instead of the weather channel watchers they've turned into.

"So I'm thinkin' that Sara should go back to work," my elbows are planted on my thighs pushing into my skin so that I don't run away and my face is planted in the palms of my hands for the extra weight.

Catherine and Sara both look oddly at me obviously missing the segue I was trying to throw at them and Nikki comes and sits next to me. She doesn't try to move my body and that's probably because she can see how _planted_ I am in my position. If she moves me I might topple over like a tree uprooted.

Sara is the first to speak. "Okay."

I need to just pull this whole situation off like I'm peeling off a band-aid. "After talking to Nikki about stuff, I've found out that I'm really tired of having everyone's life resting on my shoulders." I manage to say in a rush and add for good measure, "And the medicine appears to be working better this time."

"What do you mean?" Catherine asks.

I take a quick look at the ground, then at Nikki, then at the wall across from us, then at the stairs slightly behind us, then at the television, then my eyes finally seem to find the general direction that Catherine and Sara are sitting in. "The meds seem to be clearing up some of the fog."

By the look I manage to catch through another sweep of my gaze around the room, I kind of think that's not the answer Catherine was looking for. "You feel like everyone's life is resting on your shoulders?" Catherine prompts.

Sara reaches her right hand out and presses it against the side of my left leg. I barely manage to stay sitting upright from the touch because it rocks me. It's like she's gathered too much static electricity and then decided to pump gas and exploded the whole station—me being the gas station of course.

"This is really something you need to talk to us about, Melinda," Sara must see the tiny, thin, miniscule amount of control I have in this moment so removes her hand from me and sits back on the sofa giving me some much needed space.

"I'm trying," I say through semi-gritted teeth. "It's hard."

My eyes find themselves focusing on my healing arms. I concentrate on them, willing for them to remain blood free. It's been a long day considering all the talking that I've been doing. It would be really unfortunate if all the sudden I had to start going crazy again or rather more crazy than the controlled crazy that I have seemed to start to get a handle on.

"Take your time sweetie," Catherine's voice penetrates my concentration. I look up at her and notice that she's moved closer to Sara, whether it's for Sara's support or to support Sara I can't guess on.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath willing away the voice of my grandmother that is telling me something about me failing and something about me being weak and worthless. I don't have an internal mantra that can make the auditory hallucinations go away as easily as closing my eyes does for the visual ones. I can't really tell myself that what I'm hearing isn't real, because it is real to me. I've heard these words come from the woman who I thought was my mother for the majority of my life.

It's the separation of the past and the present that my therapist says that I need to work on. Since I don't have a mantra of my own for the auditory hallucinations she gave me one. It's corny and stupid and I swore that I would never repeat it because of how stupid it was, but I find myself repeating the words in my head anyway, 'I hear you but you are dead. I am in control. I am in the present not the past. I hear you but you are dead. I am in control. I am in the present not the past. I hear you but you are dead. I am in control. I am in the present not the past.'

"If you're not ready," Sara begins to offer but I raise my hand to her stopping her words.

"Give me a moment." I don't open my eyes. 'I hear you but you are dead. I am in control. I am in the present not the past.'

My own internal voice is out-yelling the ones that don't belong. Maybe my therapist learned something from all that education that she received after all. It almost makes me want to think about going to college again, a topic that has been very far from my thoughts lately.

Of almost their own free will, my eyes open up to see the concerned faces of everyone sitting around me. "Ever since I got really bad," my voice is surprisingly calm, "everyone has been watching me to take cues as to what they should do. You both stopped working for a while and Nikki gave up her entire life, I think." My thoughts drift off along with my voice but I redirect them quickly to where they need to be. "It's cool that you all are willing to do everything to help me but I think we're at a place where we need to figure out how you can start functioning again so that we can all live."

I'm met by silence. I don't know what kind of silence it is so I start speaking again with the only thing I can think of to say, "I think we're ready now."

The 'we' thing that I've started to vocalize surprises me a little. I don't know how that came about. I was thinking 'I' in my head but I guess 'we' sounds better. It's supposed to be a joint effort in all this isn't it? I mean, we all want the same outcome. We want me to live. That seems like something in common and we also, I think, want to move onto something a little more positive.

I can't really say that I want it to be like how it was before, because I don't think that was exactly good happenings going on before.

There is still silence but this time Nikki fills it. "She's fighting now," she sounds prideful or maybe that's just what being happy in the moment sounds like. It's been a while since I've heard that kind of tone.

Sara swallows quite audibly and obviously forgets what happened before when she touched me because she's reaching out with both arms and is pulling me to her.

I topple over right onto her lap.

"I'm so sorry you've felt so pressured. We really didn't want that." Sara tells me.

"I guess in trying not to pressure you we ended up pressuring the hell out of you," Catherine adds. "Thank you for talking to us about it. We know it couldn't have been easy for you."

It seems like this 'we' phenomenon isn't going to end anytime soon. I feel almost comfortable enough to ride out this wave of new developments and high emotionality.

Feeling slightly overwhelmed I remove myself from Sara's lap and take my place back onto the coffee table. I wipe at my nose and then at my eyes for no particular reason except to do something while I figure out what it is I want to say.

"If you do go back to work, Sara, then I'd kind of like it to be part-time," I manage to stumble out. "I don't think that I'm ready to be alone full time yet. I still need you with me."

I honestly didn't know that I was going to admit that. My lips didn't get permission from my brain before they formed the words. That's not really a good thing because next they'll be telling me that I was chanting that stupid mantra aloud.

"Of course," this time Catherine reaches out to touch me. It would appear that they really like keeping in physical contact with me. I'm not big on it yet. I mean, it feels good an all but it still feels really weird. As far as I can remember, I wasn't really touched in any positive ways as a child. I had a few punches and slaps here and a few fierce grabs there, but nothing in the same box as where Catherine's and Sara's touches fall into. "We'll take baby steps," Catherine smiles at me, her hand resting on my knee. It's warm, her hand.

For a moment I wonder if Sara held me when I was a baby before she left for good. I wonder if I got a chance to form a secure attachment to her before I was left to fend for myself in an environment that would contribute greatly to making me who I am today. If I was securely attached to her and then she just left and one of my cries was unanswered as a toddler is that when I lost my trust in humanity?

I've probably been reading too many of those psychology books and pamphlets that the doctors keep on handing out to me. They should probably read some of the stuff they push off before handing it over to people who aren't completely stable and secure. Through reading some of the stuff, I'm sure I could diagnose myself with at least another billion disorders. Why only have one when you can have thousands?

So to get my mind focused on what is happening around me in the present, Sara left me when I was very young and now I'm asking her to not leave me and she's not going to, at least I think she's not going to. I mean, she's been here more for me than she ever was before. She's listening to what I have to say and is paying attention to how I feel and everything.

When I first came to stay with her, which seems like a thousand years ago now, I got the feeling that she really loved her work. I don't think she _lived _for it, but I'm certain that she was really into it. Yet, she hasn't really talked about it at all since she simply walked away from it. Although, I'm pretty sure that she didn't simply walk away from it at all. It probably had all kinds of drama involved that I'm not privileged enough to get told yet.

My hand surprises me when it reaches and takes hold of Sara's free hand, the one that Catherine doesn't have in a death grip. "Thank you." It would appear that my lips have stopped wanting to check all words with my brain first. My body is conspiring against me.

"Never thank us for loving you and doing all we can to help you," Catherine somehow manages to say through the tears that are rolling down her face. I feel wetness on the hand that I have ensconced with Sara's and find it odd that Catherine's tears would land on my hand. That's when part of my brain kicks back in and I realize that the reason Catherine is speaking is because Sara is crying too hard to form any words and most of her tears are managing to fall down her cheeks onto our joined hands.

There's some kind of symbolism here that I'm too tired or too stupid to grasp onto right now. Maybe I can sit back and think about it when those auditory hallucinations start coming back. I can sit and analyze the meaning of tears and the meaning behind the fact that they are falling down onto our joined flesh. The same flesh that remained disjointed for a very long time.

"I'm going to fight now," I tell them and this time my lips have permission to say the words. "I'm going to get better, for real."


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47**

"So you told them how you felt?" For some reason the Doc always insists on repeating what I say. It's annoying and has no purpose. I didn't stutter when I told her about what happened between Catherine and Sara and Nikki and me. Well that's not completely true. I did stutter but I know that she understood me anyway.

"Yeah I told them," I irritably reply to her as I concentrate on getting the invisible dirt from under the nails of my right hand.

"You only had one bout of hearing Laura's voice?" She prompts ignoring my tone.

"Hallucinations you mean? Yeah, did that chant thing," I mutter. "It worked."

"You did the chant?" She seems interested in this. I guess I left that out in my original re-telling of events to her.

I nod.

"It helped?"

I nod.

"Did you say it like we practiced?"

I nod.

"How many times did you have to repeat it before your grandmother's voice went away?"

This isn't a question I can just answer with a nod. So she won this round. "Three or four, I think."

Her blue eyes widen in surprise. "Really? Melinda, that shows remarkable improvement."

"Yeah, so I guess that means I don't need to be shipped off to the crazy house and separated from my fam… the people I'm surrounded by."

She smirks. "If you continue to improve like this, there will be no need for us to separate you from your family."

"You mean the people I'm surrounded by," I immediately correct her like I immediately corrected myself. I don't have that good of a history with family as it stands right now. Family has never been too positive of a word for me. It's been closer to a curse word actually.

"We've talked about this, Melinda." Her voice is slightly chastising. "Family isn't a curse word. It can be positive if you let it."

"Can't I _let _it be a word I don't want to use too? It's hard not to associate some things back to my home." I say knowing that once again Doc has managed to get me to talk about things that I don't want to talk about at all and especially don't want to admit aloud or even admit to myself.

"Your home is no longer with your grandparents, Melinda" She shifts the notepad she has on her lap.

"It was my home for a long time."

"It was and as we've already talked about, you're still mentally stuck there. To a certain extent, you're still letting Laura Sidle control your life, as is shown in your continuation of _hearing _her voice. You're not really having hallucinations, Melinda. You're using Laura's past words as an internal barrier to the world around you. You have to give yourself permission to let her words go. It's your voice, Melinda, you just have to take control of it."

She makes it sound so easy, but all the doctors I've seen have made things sound easy. Roberson, here, isn't any different although she's a little different because she's actually managed to help me some. My previous doctor told me that I needed to see someone who used different methods and recommended to Sara and Catherine that they take me to the woman sitting across from me now.

The fact that I'm talking to her must say something about her skills or maybe it says even more about my defenses and the chronic lack of them these days. "Home is still the place where I got pounded on and eventually ended up becoming a murderer."

"Yes I know," Doc Roberson sighs. "Home _was_ that place and for the record it wasn't murder. We've talked about that too."

"If it wasn't then why isn't anyone talking to the police for some kind of investigation to get me acquitted or something? Why is everyone treating it like murder?"

"We have talked to the police, Melinda."

Whoa. "What? No one has talked to me about that?"

"I know, so that means that I haven't either," she warns me. "But I think you should at least know that there's no one that considers what you did murder. No one is going to convict you and since your grandmother was in an accident after the events it would be very hard to prove that you were responsible for anything."

"Oh."

Roberson puts her pad down on the desk next to her. "It would help you a lot if you started thinking of home as the place where your parents live. Where Catherine and Sara live and where your sister Lindsey lives. It would help for you to try to imagine yourself in your home surrounded by the people who you care enough about and who care enough about you that you are willing to fight for your existence."

My attention goes back to cleaning my nails. "It seems like I've always been fighting for my existence."

"You have been," Roberson agrees softly. "You fought for the right to grow up in a terrible situation and now you have to fight yourself. If you survived your environment for as long as you did, do you really want that fighting to go to waste because you end up defeating yourself in the end?"

Well when she puts it that way. "The medicine is starting to work." That seems to be my answer these days to a lot of questions that aren't particularly asked of me. Maybe one day in the future I can use it as a new and improved pick up line.

Roberson smiles. "Yes, it is working."

"Is it the reason for my improvement?" I'm reluctant to hear the answer because I'm kind of afraid that it's doing all the work and that I'm a slave to its whims. It'd be nice to have some control for a change.

"Melinda, trust me when I tell you that the medication wouldn't be doing its part if you weren't doing yours. Your medication isn't a solution to your problems it's only a helper. You're the main component in getting better."

"So it won't, like, make me feel things that I don't really feel?"

She shakes her head, "No, not at all." She props her head on her fist as she leans on the armrest of her chair. "I'm curious as to why you asked that?"

"I don't know," I shake my head and shrug. "I guess I just want my emotions to be my own. If I'm going to start making words like 'home' and 'family' a positive part of my vocabulary then I want it to be me talkin' and nothing else."

Roberson nods. "That's completely understandable. You shouldn't be pushed into something that you're not comfortable with."

She's silent for a little while. I don't bother to lift my eyes from my nails. I'll let her talk when she's ready to again.

"So now that you've talked to them, how do you feel about it?"

She does that a lot, asking me how I feel about things. I'm not very good at it: telling about how I feel. Most of the time, I don't know how I feel. I mean, it's never really clear how I feel about anything. It's getting clearer but now that I can see a little better that doesn't mean I can interpret what I'm feeling any better. If that makes any kind of sense at all.

"I don't know," I respond as I pick at a hang nail with my teeth. "A little off-balanced I guess." Then again, I always feel off-balanced so that shouldn't be anything new.

"I can see how you would feel that way." She's silent again and I have an odd feeling that she's waiting for me to talk without being asked a question.

That's almost an unheard of occurrence between us. She asks questions and I answer them. We have a fool-proof system going on. She's not allowed to change the system after it's been set.

"They hugged me and stuff during and after it all," I tell her for no reason at all. "I'm still not completely comfortable with them touching me. It was after Sara touched my leg that I started up with the invasion of Laura's voice."

Roberson is still sitting there looking at me with open, friendly blue eyes waiting for me to finish telling her my story.

"But like I said, I did the chant thing and it went away."

She sits there looking at me for another moment then casually asks, "How much does your mother look like your grandmother?"

Immediately panic washes over me. "I don't know," I tell the floor.

"From what you've told me about your hallucinations, they seem to be triggered by Sara a lot. I would guess that she reminds you of your grandmother both physically and mentally. You see your grandmother in her."

"No I don't," I weakly defend myself. "At least I didn't until you told me I did."

"You still have a lot of conflicting emotions when it comes to Sara, Melinda. That's perfectly normal and I think that's one of the reasons why you've bonded more quickly to Catherine."

I shift in my seat and throw my legs around on the floor until I find a comfortable position for them. I play with the hem of my shirt for a few moments then start looking around the room. Once again Roberson has me thinking about things that I don't want to think about at all.

"It would only be natural that Sara reminds you of your grandmother, Melinda. She was your mom's parent. She raised your mom, much like she raised you."

"So what," I stutter, "does that mean she's like stuck inside of us like that stupid alien is in that movie just waiting to burst out of our chest cavities?"

"That's not the analogy I was going for, but it'll work."

"And?"

"And I think you should think about what that means to you for our next session." Her eyes drop to her wristwatch. "Right now your time is up."

She's got to be kidding me. She's going to leave me with thinking about this of all subjects! That's not really fair. She should have asked me to think about something a little easier. Maybe should could have asked me to contemplate quantum mechanics or something.

"This is something you need to really think about, Melinda. You shouldn't be pushed into talking about it right now. Figure out what it means to you."

"I already know what it means to me," I rush out. "It means shit since she's dead and since she doesn't mean anything anymore."

Roberson stands up. "Our time is up."

"Fine!" I jump up from the chair I've been sitting in for the last hour and practically rip her door open and run out of her office. Sara calls my name but I walk past her and straight to her car in the parking lot. I don't want to stay around and listen to what the Doctor has to tell Sara. She's probably going to warn her about me having a mood swing or something.

It takes me a few minutes, more minutes than I want it to take, but eventually Sara appears in the parking lot and unlocks the SUV. I hurry into the car and close the door firmly just shy of actually slamming it. Sara takes her precious time to get in but doesn't put the key in the ignition so that she can get us away from Roberson. She turns to me and says, "We can talk about it later, if you want."

My eyes start failing on me because I feel myself trying desperately to blink away tears. I really hate when my sessions end this way. I'd much rather leave happy and stuff rather than crying, tired and emotionally spent.

"She doesn't mean anything," I say as I wipe sloppily at my face.

"Dr. Roberson is trying to help you." Obviously Sara doesn't know who I'm talking about. It doesn't matter.

I turn to the window seeing my pitiful reflection in it. I look bad. "I'm talking about your mother." I say a little more harshly than I want to. "She doesn't matter," I whisper softly to my reflection.

Sara moves closer to me and her reflection appears on the glass too. We look alike. My skin is darker and all but we do look alike. My hair is a little wavier and longer but not too much so. If a stranger was looking at us I bet they could tell that we were related somehow.

Her hand moves to my upper back and I almost jump through the window. She quickly moves her hand away.

"No!" I yell at our reflections then turn to her and grab her hand with my own. "We're not her," I tell her forcefully. "We can't be her," I say through the tears I've stopped trying to hold back. "You can't be her."

Sara throws her free hand and arm across my body and awkwardly pulls me to her in this too tight space. "I'm not her, Melinda," my mother tells me shakily. "I promise you that I will never be her."

We sit in the car and cry. She holds me and I force back any words that are trying to force themselves onto me through my grandmother's voice in my head and suddenly I think I have a new chant.

'I have a mother who isn't you. I have a life that you didn't ruin. I have a good home and a good family. You are defeated. You are worthless. You are nothing.'


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48**

Nikki and I are sitting in the middle of her new single-bedroom apartment trying to put together the entertainment center I bought her as a house-warming present. Looking around the room, I'm thinkin' that maybe I should have bought Nikki a futon or maybe a bed instead. I ignorantly assumed that she had put the stuff from her old apartment in storage, but apparently she sold everything instead so that she could keep living without mooching of Catherine and Sara while I recuperated.

All the money that she had left was able to pay for part of her first month's rent and to bought her a mattress so that she wouldn't have to sleep on the floor.

"So you have any possible job prospects coming to you?" I ask Nikki as I look at the pictures on the horrible directions that came with the entertainment center. I have two parts in my hands that don't look like the ones in the picture, but they fit together so I'm going to keep them that way.

"I hear Wal-Mart is hiring," she tells me as she watches me fit the parts together like I actually know what I'm doing.

"They are always hiring," I reply absently as I look around me for part D and screw type W. I find the screw but the sticker that I assume was to mark part D is now stuck to my jeans. "You have any place better, a little more humane maybe?"

"Catherine offered to see if she could hook me up with some menial job with the city," Nikki leans over and rips the D sticker off of my jeans and puts it back on the piece of fake wood that it hopefully belongs to.

I start gluing the two pieces together. It'd be a real suck-fest at this point if I'm screwing up the instructions. "There's a lot of security in city jobs," I mutter as I try wiping the glue from my fingers and onto my jeans. "What were you doing before I came and turned your life upside down? From what I can barely remember, you seemed to have a nice enough place."

"I was working as a computer technician for the local school district."

'They let you work near children?" I ask surprised. "They must have been desperate."

Nikki throws a small piece of the box this center came in at me as she tells me to shut up. The piece of cardboard flies over my head.

"So if that's what you were doing before then why don't you try working for a district here? I seem to recall from my short stay in one of the actual schools that they have computers here too."

"I'll take anything at this point," Nikki reaches out and starts to try and fit a few pieces together. "So how did your session with Doctor Roberson go? You haven't said anything to me about it."

I debate whether I want to tell Nikki anything at all about what happened only a few hours earlier. I don't want to talk about my therapy at all really. It's not exactly a conversation lifter. Then again, if I don't use Nikki as a sounding board for Roberson's craziness then who am I going to use? I can't talk to Catherine and Sara about everything.

"Roberson wants me to think about my grandmother exploding from Sara's and my chest cavities," I say quickly picking up another piece of the jigsaw puzzle that I have managed to buy for my friend.

Nikki stops what she's doing and looks at me. "What?"

"She has this wacked out theory that perhaps it's possible that Sara reminds me a little bit of my grandmother and that could be a trigger for some of my hallucinations, especially when Sara touches me." I say in a rush refusing to look at her.

"For a wacked out theory that makes sense," Nikki replies after a long moment of silence. "They look almost exactly alike."

I drop the parts that I've been unable to fit together. "I know," I whisper. "I really don't want to think about it."

"I'm a little surprised no one made any of these connections before," Nikki picks up the pieces I discarded and make them fit with the parts she's been messing with.

"I guess I've just been too caught up in the independent issues I have with Sara that I couldn't really think about who she looks like."

Nikki stops what she's doing and looks directly at me. "We shouldn't talk about this tonight," she tells me. "You need a break. If we carry on like this then you'll relapse."

Her suggestion rocks me a little and I'm a little upset that she thinks she can dictate what it is I talk about. I open my mouth to most likely yell at her but she jumps over the piles of entertainment center jigsaw pieces and pulls me to her. "You're walking on a thin edge," she whispers into my ear. "If you move too fast you'll fall off. Give yourself a break."

If I could find it in me to fight with her, I would. But I can't. I am feeling a little unbalanced. Especially after the scene that played out between Sara and me in the car. After we had both stopped crying neither of us really knew what to do afterwards. The moment became really awkward and I couldn't quite explain away my more than erratic behavior and now thanks to Roberson I can't stop thinking about Sara and my reflection in the glass.

We both look so much like her. Well, I look less like her, but it's still in there. It's still in me. I find myself evaluating every single move I make to see if I'm doing anything at all like she did. Do I walk like she did? Do the inflictions in my words sound like hers?

I wonder if Roberson knew that having me think about this could drive me to be crazier than I already am. If she did, then we need to find another counselor for me. We haven't tried out a guy yet. Maybe we should try out a guy.

"I can't stop thinking about it now," I tell Nikki as I pull myself out of the grasp she has me in. I don't really feel like being touched right now.

She takes my moving away from her in stride. "I'm sure if we start working on this…thing you've bought me your mind will start drifting again."

I take a look at the pieces that are scattered around the room. "It's been a long time since I've done a scavenger hunt."

Nikki nods then grabs for one of the pieces on the floor. There's a knock at her door and since I'm already standing I walk over to answer it while pulling a twenty dollar bill from my back pocket. We ordered a pizza what must have been hours ago now.

I'm only mildly surprised to see Catherine, Sara and Lindsey standing on the other side of the door when I open it. "We're crashing the party," Catherine explains as she walks past me and turns her eyes to the mess on the floor. "Did the box throw up?" She asks me looking quite serious.

"Hey," I say to Sara and Lindsey ignoring Catherine. "Did you bring food?"

"Crashers don't bring food," Sara smiles tentatively at me. She doesn't look too terribly comfortable to be standing in front of me right now.

I nod but don't respond to her. I'm not too terribly comfortable either. I step aside so that Sara and Lindsey can carefully step into Nikki's apartment. "How did you get conned into spending a Friday night with your parents?" I ask Lindsey.

She shrugs. "I wanted to come."

"Oh. Cool. Then you can help with the new entertainment center."

Lindsey rolls her eyes and steps over the mess on the floor muttering something about already promising to help with the bed. I turn to Sara looking for an answer. "We bought Nikki a bed. Catherine couldn't bare the thought of Nikki sleeping on the floor."

"So she really does love me!" Nikki smiles brightly her body still firmly planted on the floor.

"Don't get too excited," Catherine makes her way over to Nikki and places her hand on Nikki's head. "We're not putting it together for you."

"It's still in the car," Sara tells us and points to the front door that I haven't seemed to manage to close yet. "I'll get it."

"You'll need help," Catherine tells Sara but I get the feeling she's really telling me since she's looking directly at me.

"Oh, well then I'll help," I say with as much fake enthusiasm as I can muster as I walk out the door and across the walkway to Catherine's car. Sara quickly falls in step next to me.

We walk to the car in silence. Sara opens up the back door and we both stare at the long semi-thin box in front of us. Neither of us moves to pick it up.

"Catherine talked me into this," Sara tells the box. "I thought it was a bad idea, still do. I think you need some time."

I nod not quite sure why I'm doing it. "So did you tell her what happened?"

Sara releases a long labored sigh. "No. But she can sense something's wrong. She's giving me space about it."

"Yeah well," I brush my hair back with a quick move of my right hand, "that's cool of her."

Sara's hands go deeply into the front pockets of her jeans. "Yeah."

My hands start moving to the front pockets of my own jeans but once I realize what they're doing I stop them and hook my thumbs on my belt loops instead. The movement didn't look smooth at all. "It smells like it might rain."

This is now officially a conversation that is going absolutely nowhere. I've brought up the weather and that's certainly a sign that this conversation has died.

"It's supposed to rain later in the night," Sara says as she looks up at the night sky that is mostly void of stars.

"Rain is good." Rain is good? That's certainly brilliance.

I give up and reach for the box but before I can get my hands firmly attached to it for lifting Sara asks me, "Do I remind you of her at all?" Her words come in a rush and it takes a moment for my brain to catch up with what my ears heard.

My hands fall away from the box and go straight into the front pockets of my jeans then quickly out again once I realize I am mimicking the way Sara is standing. "Can we not do this?" My words aren't as quick as hers were. They fall over each other in their laziness and lack of enunciation.

"Yeah. Sure. Of course." Her hands quickly leave her pockets and she reaches for the box.

This sucks. Roberson sucks. Therapy sucks. "She's inside us both Sara." I think that actually hurt me to say and by the looks of it, it hurt Sara to hear. It looks like she's holding onto that non-descript box for dear life. "She raised us both y'know?" Oh, hey look! I can't stop talking now.

Sara laughs but it's not a very pleasant laugh at all. It's hard and gritty and ugly. "Yeah. I know." Her voice has no humor in it.

I open my mouth to say something but come up short with anything to say and am saved from saying anything when Lindsey appears and tells us she was sent down by Catherine to see what was taking us so long. "I was hoping that you all would finish the entertainment center so that I don't have to work on it anymore," I tell her as I force a smile on my face and infuse some kind of humor in my voice.

Lindsey smiles back at me so it would seem that my fake smile was taken as genuine. "Well you don't have to worry about it anymore. Mom took the instructions from Nikki and has officially taken over."

"Good," Somehow I keep a smile on my face. "But since you're down here now, I guess that means you can help us with this box."

She looks like she wants to refuse by stomps over to us and looks at us obviously waiting for Sara or me to make the first move. Sara doesn't seem like she's going to move anytime soon so I once again reach in for a box that hasn't moved a centimeter despite all the attempts made to do so.

"Hey wait," I can feel Sara's breath on my neck and her hand on my back. "Lindsey, do you think you could give us a few more minutes?"

My eyes close and I can hear Lindsey walking away. This box is never going to move anywhere.

"One of my biggest fears is ending up like her, Melinda," Sara tells my back.

My eyes are still closed. "It's one of mine too," I admit softly, afraid that if I say the words too loud then they'll come true. Isn't there some big thing out there about 'saying something makes it real'?

Sara puts her hand on my shoulder and forces me to turn and face her. Automatically my eyes open. "You'll never be like her," she tells me vehemently but she misunderstood me.

"It's not so much my fear that I'll end up like her—I was obviously willing to kill myself before that happened—I fear that you'll end up like her. I'm afraid that I'll love and trust you and then all the sudden you'll turn into her. I think I might be more afraid of that than of you leaving me again. I think I could survive you leaving me, but not you being her. I couldn't survive loving you if you are like her."

She's shaking. Her whole body is shaking.

I don't know how long we stand looking at one another but it would seem that we managed to do it long enough for Catherine to come get us this time. She immediately recognizes that something is wrong.

"What have you two been talking about?" She asks us gently.

Neither of us answers.

She goes up to Sara and puts an arm around Sara's waist and my mother crumbles into Catherine's deceptively strong embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Mel," Sara may be in Catherine's arms but her attention is focused solely on me. "I'm so sorry."

I'm not quite sure why she's apologizing. I don't know the reason why she feels she needs to. We've already covered all the apologies. I guess, she's not completely over her own guilt yet or somethin'. I don't know.

I hardly know what I'm witnessing. I hardly know what I'm letting myself witness.

Maybe I'm witnessing that Sara is in pain too? Maybe I'm witnessing that she's a person who is afraid: for me, for her, for us?


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49**

"So, how is she doing?" It feels weird to be asking that about someone else.

"I'm not quite sure what went on between you two but it did a number on her," Catherine says freely then I think realizes who she's talking to because her back stiffens and that parental mask that she has slips back in place. "Don't worry, she'll be fine."

I may be crazy, but I'm not quite crazy enough to believe her. "It's okay to let me know that everything isn't roses and sunshine." I snort. "I think I could tell by her reaction that everything isn't 'fine'."

"Well what is it you want to know?" She sounds upset with me. My words seem to have easily removed that mask she put on and I'm not liking what's in its place.

I take a small step away from her. "I'm just concerned for her, that's all."

Her eyes are still flashing cold fire at me but I hold my ground. I refuse to let her intimidate me, or rather I refuse to let her know that she intimidates me.

"I'm not positive you really are concerned for her, Melinda. Do you know how," she suddenly stops talking. She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths.

A lot of things may have been going on with me lately, but I can still identify anger and she's definitely angry. Angry at me.

Well I can be angry too. "I don't know a whole lot, Catherine," I intentionally sound out every syllable of her name knowing that it will annoy her by how much it annoys me to do it. "It's hard to know things when everyone around you seems to not want you to know anything."

When her eyes open the fire is still present and looks like it may have gotten a little worse. "That's because you can't handle it."

Truth.

It hurts.

"Let me handle a little bit of it," I sound pathetic. My righteous anger has mysteriously left me. "Please?" Begging doesn't suit me but, "Sara is my mom, Catherine. She's the best one I've been given and I don't want to lose that, not now. So please. Don't be angry at me right now. Talk to me."

Her anger disappears within a blink of my tears. "I don't want to be angry at you, Mel." her hand roughly combs her hair, "It's hard to see her hurt like this."

"Does it make any difference to you that I didn't mean to upset her this much?" My words rush out of my mouth before I know they are coming. "I didn't mean to upset her at all. It's Roberson's fault. She's got me thinkin' about stuff that I've been tryin' not to think about ever since I got here."

Catherine looks at me for a long moment, a moment that is long enough for me to run away from this, but I stay. I stay to hear what she has to say to me. I stay to hear whatever it is that will most likely hurt me.

"I know it's not your fault, Mel." Okay that's not what I was expecting to hear. "It's just that Sara is working as hard as you are to stay 'okay', y'know?"

Not really. I'm ready for confrontation and personal attacks. I'm ready to defend myself and plea with Catherine to let me stay just one more night. "I haven't really thought about it," my words come out really slowly. I almost sound like I'm a different kind of 'special'.

"No," Catherine looks away from me, "I don't suppose you would have."

That's close to what I was expecting to hear before but it doesn't quite make the mark. "Why not? Why would I have not thought about it?"

"She's always strong for you, Melinda. She doesn't give you a chance to see her any other way."

"Well you don't either." I think I wanted to sound defensive but instead my tone is non-hostile. I'm making a simple comment on how things have been going on around here.

"You can't handle it," Catherine says again. It doesn't hurt any less this time around and it's not any less true either.

"Fair enough," I reply through a ragged sigh. But what does me not being able to handle it mean, anyway? It's not like I don't know that there's some heavy stuff going on around here that I don't know about. I'm not deaf, mute, and dumb. I understand that there's conversations that go on behind closed doors that I'm not supposed to hear or participate in. "So why don't you tell me a little bit about Mom? Something I can handle?"

"Your mom is trying really hard to make sure you both survive," Catherine admits to me like she's telling some big secret and maybe she is. I don't know. I'm starting to feel like I should start thinking about things through Sara's perspective, but that seems really scary. I don't want to do that at all. It might not work out too well for me. For all I know, through her eyes, I'm a selfish little brat who has given her life hell since I've landed in it. I don't want to see me that way. I don't want to see me any way, really.

Deep down, I'm talkin' really deep, I know that Sara loves me. I think that if I concentrate on that deep down part, then I also realize that I can see how much she loves me every time she looks at me. She's not comfortable around me, but it's not because she doesn't love me. She's uncomfortable because she looks at me and sees…

Catherine's hand on my hip scares me and I jump away. The smirk she gives me is sort of like a, 'I told you so' kind of smirk. She knows I'm freaking out over the little piece of nothing she gave me thus proving to her and everyone that I can't handle all the confessions she can give me right now.

"You and Lindsey, y'know, you've both got it easy," I tell her and I'm not being mean about it either. "You don't have to figure out the parent, daughter relationship like Sara and I do."

She nods. She knows how lucky she is. She has to, because if someone like me can see it, it must be there. "Why don't you go downstairs and entertain Lindsey for a while."

I'm about to ask her what she's going to be doing, but the answer comes to me before I can say anything. I know where Catherine is going to be. She's going to hold my mother as she sleeps. She's going to love her.

And now, I'm jealous and it's not their relationship I'm jealous of, not really. It's something else, something I don't want to admit quite now.

"I'll be downstairs with Lindsey," I point downwards. "If you need anything let me know."

I don't bother to stick around to watch Catherine open the door to her and my mom's bedroom and slip back inside to their little world. I walk to the stairs and then down them. I approach Lindsey and sit down next to her. She's watching something on a television that I don't recognize on a station I've never heard of and somehow Nikki has failed to stay at her apartment, again.

"What good is it to have your own place if you're never there?" I take a seat between the two and stretch my feet out onto the coffee table in front of us.

"If you saw how all those boxes threw up on my living room floor, you wouldn't want to be there either," Nikki puts her arm around me and draws me closer to her body. I'm sure she wants to know what's going on but she's not going to ask anything in front of Lindsey.

"Is everything okay upstairs?" Lindsey asks reminding us just one more time that she's not quite as young as we try to make her be.

"It's getting that way," I answer honestly. If she can ask the question then she at least deserves an answer from me that isn't a lie. I'm pretty sure she can handle it. "Your mom is just taking care of Sara. She was really upset."

"With you?" Yeah she definitely isn't as young as we might want her to be, which means offering a cookie won't shut her up.

"No, not really. I don't think. It's not like that, really. It like…"

"Sometimes she remembers stuff like Melinda does," Nikki jumps in for the benefit of us all, "and she gets upset about it. It's not because she's mad at Mel, it just happens like that sometimes."

"Oh," Lindsey nods and easily accepts Nikki's very uncomplicated explanation that she seemed to come up with a lot more ease compared to the word throw-up my brain came up with.

"I'm going to get something to drink," I jump off the couch. I feel the need to keep moving, because I'm sure if I sat down long enough I'd start thinking and I think history shows that me and thinking don't fit together so well. "Anyone else want anything to drink?"

"Get me a Pepsi, please," Lindsey doesn't even bother to look at me. She's too focused on whatever is happening on the television screen.

"How many have you had today?" I ask her knowing that Catherine limits Lindsey's intake of caffeine and soda. Now only if I could remember what the limit was…

Lindsey turns her attention away from the screen, I guess because my question is more important than a commercial and we proceed to have a staring contest. I think she might be trying to intimidate me into not caring about her caffeine or soda intake for the day. It's unfortunate for her that her mother intimidates me more. The last thing I want is for Catherine to come into the room and find Lindsey drinking her twentieth Pepsi of the day and Lindsey confessing to her that I told her that it was okay she have another one. I'm not getting into that mess again. "Fine," she rolls her eyes and looks back at the screen. I've won. "Get me some juice."

I would ask her to say please, but I don't want to push her too far. I'm not into getting in a fight with her tonight.

"You're lucky that she's not making you get us drinks with that attitude," Nikki throws over her shoulder as she steps into the kitchen.

"Yeah," I try to sound authoritative as I smile and run to catch up with Nikki. From now on, maybe she should take care of talking to Lindsey.

"She's getting more and more like you every day," Nikki whispers as I enter the kitchen.

"Yeah," I respond thoughtfully then Nikki's words catch up with me. "Hey!" I slap playfully at her shoulder but she jumps out of the way before my hand makes contact.

"You agreed with me first," she says through laughter, "so that must mean you think I'm right and you have no room to be offended."

It's been a long time since anyone has been able to make me laugh or that I've allowed anyone to make me laugh. Right now I'm laughing. Despite everything that has happened tonight, I'm laughing and my laughter immediately makes Nikki's stop. She stands up straight and looks at me, laughing. "You're beautiful when you laugh, Mel. It's good to see you do it again."

My laughing stops. "It's been a long time since beautiful could be an adjective used to describe me." I guess that's because beauty is only skin deep. The messed up part overshadowed all the beauty that might have been there.

Nikki's hands go directly to my hips and her arms are pulling me closer to her. "You've always been beautiful, Mel, but honestly I rather have you healthy than beautiful any day."

I start laughing again. "I think a compliment was in there somewhere."

"Yeah," Nikki smiles. "It's right here," then she's leaning in and kissing me. It's not a passionate let's go get down and busy type of kiss either. It's just a soft touch of her lips against mine. It's a new sensation for me, not because we haven't kissed before, but because it's not about unresolved passion. It's just me and her standing in my guardians' kitchen kissing because we can now. We're at 'that' place now.

Nikki pulls away from me and she's still smiling. I think I'm smiling too, but my smile quickly disappears when I hear someone (Catherine) clearing her throat from behind us. I manage to jump away from Nikki and right into the kitchen island causing my hip bone to make intimate contact with the edge of it. "Fucking ow!" I scream loud enough to make sure the entire neighborhood heard me or I at least scream loud enough for Sara to come rushing down the stairs and for Lindsey to run into the kitchen.

Seeing everyone surround me in their panicked state makes me laugh again, but much much harder this time. "I hit my hip on the island," I say for Sara's and Lindsey's benefit. "It hurt."

"Are you okay?" Catherine's concerned face drops and she starts laughing too.

I'm sure they don't know why, but Sara and Lindsey start in on the laughing too and I know that this moment really isn't funny at all. I know that there's nothing comical about me jumping into a kitchen counter having been caught kissing Nikki. There's nothing funny about this moment at all, but we need to laugh.

This house hasn't seen laughter in a while, not like this. This is special and I'll happily accept this moment in exchange for the massive bruise that is forming on my hip. I'll accept it in exchange for almost anything.


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50**

It's raining, which isn't so surprising since spring has somehow managed to arrive. This is my first spring in Vegas and I guess I didn't expect it to rain at all. It's not raining really all that badly or anything, but it's still rain and still surprises me since I thought I was in the middle of a desert.

The rain just started and it doesn't look like it's going to last long at all. It's been on and off all day, and Catherine and Sara have been out in it. I haven't seen them since Catherine came and dragged Sara off to the labs. Apparently some type of emergency popped up that made them forget about my craziness for a while. They left me in charge of Lindsey and told me they would call me when they got a chance.

So Sara's back at work, for the first time, and I've been left alone with Lindsey and am in charge. It would seem that whatever is going on is important enough for me to forego a slow transition back into normal roles. I can't even call Nikki and ask her to come over, cause she did finally get that new job of hers. She's working for the city as a dispatcher for the the city of Las Vegas. Catherine told her about the job and I guess with Nikki's skills and a small amount of favoritism working in her favor, she was hired in no time.

They all work for the city now. I wonder if that can be some kind of predictor of my future chances for working a city job. It's not something I ever had in my plans. Of course, I never really had plans of what I would do past college.

It looks like I might just survive all that's been going on with me now, so I guess it's time I start thinking about what I'm going to do when I can walk out the front door of this house and start up my life again. That just might mean thinking about college and what's going to happen after I'm done with it.

My goals just aren't what they used to be.

"I'm bored," Lindsey announces as she pushes herself into my room and invites herself to lay down on my bed. "Mom said I couldn't have my friends over now since neither she or Sara are here."

"Neither nor," I tell her giving her plenty of room on the bed to stretch out. "It's neither she nor Sara."

Lindsey rolls her eyes. "Whatever."

"If you're bored why don't you try reading a book." I know why she's really in here. She wants me to let her friends come over anyway. She obviously doesn't think it's a bad idea at all for me to be in charge of myself and other people.

"I'm tired of reading," she whines.

"Then watch television."

"Television sucks."

"Then meditate." That activity seems to keep me busy most of the time.

"Can I please invite at least two of my friends over?" She's finally reached her point.

"No," and I'm finally rejecting it.

"Why not?"

"I can't be in charge of more than you and me right now."

About a hundred sounds of exasperation come from Lindsey and she no longer is on my bed. She's standing over me looking very irritated. "You suck. Everything is about what you can do. I hate living here." She runs out of my room and slams my door shut.

I'm going to give her a few minutes to calm down before I go after her. I don't feel like arguing with her right now and I don't even know how I would argue with her. A lot of things are based on what I can or cannot handle. It's not fair to her but I can't fix that. I'm trying to fix it, but I can't snap my fingers and make it happen.

That doesn't mean she shouldn't be able to sit down and yell at me about it though, I guess. She's got to be able to release some of her frustrations. I've done it to Sara enough, pretty much ever since I arrived in Las Vegas. It's gotten cut down a lot recently, but I'm still angry about a lot of things.

I roll off the bed and open my door. It's time Lindsey gets her yelling out. I make it to her closed door and open it without knocking but before I step inside I make a mental note to apologize, yet again, to Sara when I see her next. We still haven't gotten a chance to hash out that whole 'you look a lot like Laura' thing.

My eyes roam over Lindsey's room and it becomes very obvious, by the open window and all, that she decided to skip out on me. She must be a lot angrier than I thought. So I guess that means that I need to call Catherine and tell her that I lost her daughter.

But I really don't want to do that. She seemed upset enough when she came to get Sara earlier. Something big is already going on in her world and I certainly don't want to add to that. Lindsey shouldn't have been able to get too far. I didn't leave her alone for long.

I run and put on my running shoes, place my cell phone in my pocket then get the keys to the house and take off in the direction I hope Lindsey ran off too. I focus really hard on not thinking about being alone and running about the neighborhood at this time of night. This is the type of situation that would be prime for sparking some kind of hallucination of mine.

It's really important I don't think about any of that though. So instead, I focus on how out of shape I am. I haven't been running that long but I'm already tired. I should really think about starting back up my athletic life.

When I finally spot Lindsey she's getting into someone's car who I can only hope she knows. I scream out her name but she either doesn't hear me or is ignoring me. I'm not fast enough to catch up with them before they pull away from the curb and into the flow of traffic. I run after the car as long as I can before I realize that I'm never going to be able to catch up to them. At least I was lucky enough to get close enough to it to recognize who was in the driver's seat.

I run to the nearest convenience store and beg the clerk for a phone book. I flip through it until I reach the name I'm looking for. Within moments I'm dialing the number and waiting for Jeremy's parents to pick up their home phone. I can only hope that his parents know where he's going tonight. I'm really needing to talk to actively involved parents right now and not the kind they do television specials on.

His mother picks up and tells me he was going to an end of the year party at a friend's house and was even helpful enough to give me the address. I thank her without explaining to her that her son picked up a minor that is more minor than he is and dragged her off to a high school party. I try to hand back the phone book to the clerk but he's focused on the small television he has behind the counter. I take a look at it and see some dude who looks surprising like that Mr. Brown guy that Catherine works with pushing his way through the reporters. He doesn't look happy and I'm going to bet that whatever has got the local news swelling with interest around him probably has something to do with why Catherine dragged Sara off to work.

I put the phonebook on the counter and thank the clerk, who probably doesn't hear me, then walk out of the store. The party isn't that far from here and all I've got to get me there is my feet so I start running again. If I don't get Lindsey back before everything at Catherine's work settles then I'm going to get in a lot of trouble and so is Lindsey, which will of course make the kid blame me for everything that goes wrong in her life for the next hundred years or so and Catherine… well I'm not quite sure what she would do and I don't really want to find out either.

So right now all I need to do is concentrate on my running and not passing out. I'm doing such a great job on concentrating on this that I'm almost knocked over with the force of my ringing phone. I come to a complete stop and slowly take my phone out of my pocket. The caller ID tells me it's Sara calling. If I don't answer then she'll probably send a SWAT team to the house, because chances are she already tried to call the house; so I pick up the phone and do my best to control my breathing.

"Hello?" I say through a held breath then cover the mouthpiece so that I can start gasping for air again.

"Melinda, where are you?" Sara certainly doesn't sound calm. As a matter of fact she sounds like she's a little stressed.

I'm going to give Lindsey some serious hard times for making me lie to Sara, especially now, especially when Sara is starting to be my mother for real. But I uncover the mouthpiece to open my mouth up and lie anyway. "I'm upstairs sitting outside of Lindsey's room. She had a fit because her friends couldn't come over tonight." I cover the mouthpiece again.

"I tried calling the house."

Once again I remove my hand. "I think Lindsey is probably on the phone telling her friends how bad she has it." And there's another lie.

"I'm sorry she's doing this to you," and now Sara is apologizing, that's great, "she's just acting out because…"

"Because she's rightfully angry at me, at what I've done to her life." This time I don't cover the phone up when I'm done. My breathing has already evened.

"Are you okay with staying with her?" Sara asks after a moment.

I look around me and I see the house I've been running to within my sights. Hopefully that's where Lindsey is. "I'm cool with it."

"Are you sure?"

I'm sure I don't want to get caught. I'm sure I don't want Lindsey to get caught for running away either. They might get the idea to send Lindsey to some kind of boarding school or somethin'. "I'm not going to pull you away from work. Catherine thought it was important enough to drag you to work so it must be really important. Do your thing and I'll take care of this," or rather I'll do my best at trying to take care of it. "If anything gets totally out of hand then I'll call."

There's a long silence again but eventually Sara thanks me and tells me she'll call me again when she can. Something big is going on down there. It's obviously important enough to keep Sara workin' even though she knows there's a 'slight' problem happening at home.

My phone goes back into my pocket and I run the rest of the way to the house. The door is open and loud music is playing from within. There's a bunch of teenagers dancing around and fucking around and I can't bring myself to step inside. I haven't been to a party like this in a really long time. I was certainly a different person when I walked in a situation like this last time.

I can't do this. I'm going to have to call Sara and let her know what's going on. She can walk in here and drag Lindsey out of the mess she's getting herself into.

"Mel?" Shit. I've been recognized. "I never thought you'd bother to come to my party." I'm trying really hard to recognize the voice and face of the guy standing in front of me, but I don't.

I force a smile on my face. "I have to come out of hiding sometime," I step over the threshold of the door. "Plus, my step-sister Lindsey Willows ran off and I think she came here."

His face is a mixture of drunken confusion and surprise. "Everyone was saying that you were locked away or something."

This obviously isn't going to work. "Rumors are only that, man, no truth to it." I push myself away from him and start searching the house room by room. I push past people who think they know me and people who have probably only heard the legends of my demise.

It would figure that the last room I check is the one Lindsey is in. She, along with two or four other couples, is making out with somebody I hardly recognize. I pull her away from the guy and she squeals out her disapproval. I ignore her and instead focus in on the guy that no longer has a make-out partner. It's not Jeremy.

"Who the fuck are you?" I grab him by his shirt and push him against the wall. Lindsey grabs at my arm but I push her away.

The guy's mouth starts moving but he doesn't say anything. He looks scared. "How old are you?" I shout at him. "You better fucking be younger than me."

"Fourteen," he stumbles out and gains some of his wits because he's pushing against my grip on him. "Let me go."

My hand moves to his neck. He stops struggling. "Let him go, Mel!" Lindsey's hands are pulling at the arm I have steadying my weight against this guy's neck.

I want to kill him. With the smoke, alcohol, and hormones in the air reminding me and putting me back in that place I've been trying so hard to escape from, I want to kill him. I don't care how old he is or if he has anything to do with Lindsey running off. I don't care how guilty or how innocent he is of anything.

I close my eyes tightly to push away the memories and drop my grip from him. He doesn't bother to stay around and take care of Lindsey; he runs off without looking back to see if I'm going to chase him.

"Look what you've done, Mel!" Lindsey steps in front of me and is yelling directly at me. My eyes are still closed. "He's never going to talk to me again."

This is what she's worried about? My eyes open. The same hand that was wrapped around that kid's neck is now wrapped around her right bicep. "Hey!" She tries to pull out of my grip but she's not nearly strong enough to do so. I drag her down the stairs of the house and out the front door. When we reach the front lawn I release her and all her resistance throws her onto the grass.

"We need to go back home now." I tell her as calmly as I possibly can. I feel the hallucinations, memories, tortures trying to force themselves into the forefront of my mind.

Lindsey picks herself up off the ground. "I don't want to leave."

"Do you think I'm making this an option?" I barely open my mouth to talk. My head is starting to hurt.

She must see something or hear something in my voice because she steps away from me. "Okay."

I start walking in the direction I came from and am pleased when Lindsey automatically starts following me. We're silent for most of the walk until Lindsey feels the need to apologize to me. Her guilt is catching up with her.

"Consider us even now," My words are still calm. It's not the good kind of calm either. I'm concentrating only on my steps. We've walked 2,457 steps.

"Did you call Mom?" Lindsey is looking down at her feet but I don't think she's counting her steps as closely as I'm counting mine.

"This never happened," 2,473 steps. "It's between us. We're even."

"I know what I did was stupid."

"We do stupid things sometimes," 2,522 steps. I'm in no condition to try and counsel her about anything that happened tonight. This little nightly venture probably has set me back in recovery a few hundred paces.

When we reach the house Nikki's car is in the driveway and she's running out of the house as soon as we appear near it. She's asking us if we're okay and what's been going on. I tell Lindsey to go to her room and she doesn't give me any grief about it.

"Sara asked me to check on you." Nikki tells me as she guides me back into the house.

"Did you call her and tell her we weren't here?" It would suck for her to know that I lied to her.

"No, I wanted to give you some time first. So are you going to tell me what happened?"

I shrug. "Lindsey got angry and ran away to some party. I tracked her down and brought her back here." I get a glance at the clock on the wall and see that the night has turned into morning.

"You went after her alone?" Nikki guides me to the couch. I fall into it just now realizing how sore my legs are from all the walking and running. My foot is even a little sore.

"Not the smartest thing I could have done, I realize."

Nikki nods. "Any problems?"

I shake my head. "Close though. I could feel stuff in my head wanting to take me over."

"Okay," Nikki puts her arm across my shoulders and pulls me to her. "You can tell me the details later."

Speaking of details, "What's up with Catherine and Sara?"

Nikki's free hand rubs her forehead. "One of their guys, Nick Stokes, was kidnapped and buried alive. They got him out not that long ago."

Wow. "That's fucked up."

"Yeah, it is." We sit in silence over this for a while. "I'm sure Sara and Catherine will be back soon, though."

Oh good, I can't wait. We can see if I'm able to maintain a lie or even if I should.


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51**

I fell asleep before they got home. That means I effectively avoided having to face them. I understand that sleeping is another form of running away from the situation, but I was in all honesty very tired. Chasing Lindsey around takes a lot of stamina that I just don't seem to have anymore. But since I can't be avoidant forever I get up out of bed and make my way down to where all the voices are coming from.

If I had a watch on I'd look at it, just to double check and make sure I didn't wake up in another dimension or something because some of the voices that are in the kitchen are some that I certainly don't recognize. I did go to sleep last night or more accurately this morning (thanks to Nikki for somehow getting me to my bed) but I know I didn't sleep that long. At least that's what my clock told me when I looked at it. It only read that it was nine in the morning.

So ignoring the fact that I somehow ended up in boxers and a tank top, I walk into the kitchen where the voices seem to be coming from and I don't know everyone in here but most of them seem familiar somehow. Catherine is conspicuously missing and I can only guess that she's upstairs hopefully not consorting with Lindsey.

"You're up," Nikki announces thus assuring that everyone in the room turns their full attention to me.

I nod. "Did I miss the memo about the kitchen party?" I've never been one much to the benefits of modesty but I'm sorely underdressed and am not really appreciating the horny looks I'm getting from some of the guys in here.

Sara makes her way over to me and effectively blocks everyone else's view of me and me of them. "Sorry if we woke you. We all wanted to hang out after last night."

Why is she explaining this to me? This is her or really Catherine's house. They can do whatever they want with it. I'm not paying rent. "Cool." That's really all I have to say, which is why I turn around and make my way out of the kitchen barely catching someone's question to Sara asking her if her sister is 'legal'. I don't feel like stopping outside the door and hearing her answer.

Nikki must not feel like sticking around either because she's by my side walking up the stairs within moments of the question. "You okay?" she asks as soon as we reach my open bedroom door.

"Yeah," I scratch at my chin. "Why shouldn't I be?"

"It's been a long night for you too."

The only response I have is an indecipherable grunt before I walk into my bedroom leaving Nikki to do what she wishes. It seemed like she was having a good time downstairs with everyone I hardly know.

"Are you going to go back downstairs?" Nikki follows me into the room and closes the door behind her. I guess she wants us to have some privacy.

"I don't have plans to. That's not my crowd, Nik. It's Sara's and Catherine's world downstairs. I'm not a part of that." I fall back down into my bed and close my eyes. If I'm lucky I can get some sleep and wake up when everyone is gone.

Nikki sits down next to my feet forcing me to move them so that she's not sitting partially on top of them. "No, I guess you're not."

We haven't quite managed to breach that barrier yet. I'm not sure if I want to breach it anymore anyway. The world is invading into my little hole I've been put into and it's a lot to deal with. I'm being reintroduced to life and as a new person on a whole new set of drugs. Everything I thought I wanted to happen all at once a few months ago, I don't really want to be propelled into anymore.

If last night taught me anything, it certainly taught me that.

"When I first got here and learned that Sara was my mom I wanted everything," Nikki is still sitting at the end of my bed and I can't think of anything else better to do at the moment than to talk to her. "I wanted Sara to shout from the rooftops that I was her daughter. I wanted Catherine to validate me in how wrong I thought Sara was for leaving me. I wanted my school life to be perfect and my athletic life to be perfect. I wanted a thousand apologies and a million miles of selfish leeway."

Nikki's hand rubs against my calf. "You don't want that anymore?"

"I don't know what I want," I cover my eyes with the palms of my hands. "I don't really know. I mean, I'm Sara's daughter whether some guy who I don't know, who I don't really care about, who works with her knows if I'm her daughter or not. That guy knowing isn't going to change the facts as they are. And Catherine doesn't need to validate my anger. She doesn't need to stand up against Sara on my behalf, 'cause we're all working for the same thing now. We're all workin' to get me back in that world that is downstairs and in that world that Lindsey ran off to last night." My hands drop away. "I don't know. It just seems like everything I was so focused on before seems like petty details now."

"You know if Catherine and Sara ever got wind of this conversation they would totally kill me for not having a digital recorder on hand, 'cause this would be something they really would want to hear, Mel."

I rub at my eyes and sigh. "I know I know. But I can't tell them this 'cause as petty as those things are, I'm still angry. I'm still angry."

"Talking to them might help your anger," Nikki's suggestion hasn't escaped my own self-musings but Sara's recent breakdown during our conversation about Laura doesn't reinforce any ideas I have of talking to her, right now at least. I know that in the past I cynically noticed the similarities between Laura and Sara and me, but I denounce all that now. We can't be like her, at all. We have to reject every part of her that has seeped itself into us, because it's poison. It's pure poison.

"I'll think about it," It's the best I can say right now. I've already thought about it. I'm going to have to think myself into a decision but that's not going to happen today. I'm hoping that I don't even have to think myself out of my room. I can sleep all day and let the powwow go on downstairs.

Nikki looks like she's going to say something but stops herself when Catherine comes barging into my room like she's ready to seriously start yelling at me. Lindsey comes running in after her screaming that, "it's not Mel's fault".

That must mean that Lindsey and I are no longer even.

Catherine is standing next to my bed looking down at me, she looks angry. "Why didn't you call us? Something serious could have happened."

Maybe I should make an effort to get up and face her on a more even level or maybe I shouldn't. "Something serious was already happening. I didn't want to add to it. If I fucked up then I'm sorry and next time I'll do better." I do my best to sound as genuine, sorrowful, repentant, and most importantly not like I'm trying to be a smartass, as much as I possibly can. I don't want to get her any angrier. She's probably had a really long last twenty-four hours and I don't want to get caught in the downswing of her wrath.

"Damn right you'll do better next time," she says after taking a few seconds to just look at me with all the wind having been taken out of her wings. Catherine was expecting a fight from me, I can easily see that and instead she gets an apology and an appetence of my will to change my actions if something like this happens again. "Something very serious could have happened to you or Lindsey," but I'm still going to get a lecture. "What would you have done if you hadn't found her or if you started to hallucinate again? You're in no condition to run around right now. What were you thinking? Were you thinking at all? Don't you think it would have been a lot worse if something had happened to both you and Lindsey without Sara or me knowing that anything was going on at all? Well…what do you have to say for yourself?"

I sit up in my bed knowing that I can't curb this conversation into not happening. Catherine is upset and she's going to hold onto this until she gets whatever she has to say out of her system. "If it ended up being too much for me or if I didn't find her, I would have called you or Sara. I just really felt that last night wasn't a good time to tell you that your daughter ran off. I thought I was making the best decision I could at the time, and I am really sorry that I lied. I'm sorry I even suggested to Lindsey that we don't tell you about it," I need to cover all my bases here. "The only thing I can say in my defense is that I did handle it and I did get Lindsey back here. It wasn't easy for me," maybe I can guilt her out of yelling at me, "because there were plenty of times I thought I might collapse, especially when I caught Lindsey with that boy, but I didn't."

Catherine's attention turns to Lindsey. "What boy?"

Lindsey gives me a dirty look and I can only assume that when Lindsey decided to confess to Catherine about what happened last night she left out a few damning details. Here I thought we were doing full disclosures.

"He's nobody," Lindsey's evil glare finally falls away from me and to the floor. "It's just a guy I met at the party."

"Well what were you doing with that boy you just met?" Catherine has completely removed her attentions from me. She's standing right in front of Lindsey looking down at the girl like she's going to make Lindsey wish she never learned what a 'boy' is.

Lindsey's arms cross in front of her body. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" I don't think Catherine believes her.

I must be smiling because Nikki slaps my leg and tells me to stop doing it and that this isn't funny.

"Nothing! Okay?" Well that probably wasn't very smart of Lindsey.

"Okay? Definitely not okay, Lindsey." Yeah that wasn't so smart of Lindsey but at least Catherine has forgotten that I'm in the room. "You are in so much trouble right now; I can't even talk to you. I can't deal with you right now so just go to your room and stay there until Sara and I come talk to you."

Lindsey must realize her mistake because her defensive posture drops and she looks like she wants to say something to her mother but is too afraid to do so. She drags her feet out of my room and keeps her head down not making any eye contact with anyone. Catherine watches her daughter leave and then very slowly turns back to me. "Tell me about this boy."

Nikki releases some kind of sound that almost seems like a chuckle so I kick her. "I don't know who it was, just some fourteen year old kid. I caught Lindsey making out with him when I found her."

"And?" Catherine's hands move to her hips.

"And I pulled them apart and pushed him up against a wall and then I think I might have choked him a little bit."

"Might have?" her voice doesn't sound so intimidating anymore. She sounds concerned.

"No, I did choke him but I didn't hurt him even though I really wanted to."

"Lindsey really wasn't thinking, was she?" Nikki says under her breath.

"She's grounded until she's thirty," Catherine tells us and I'm inclined to believe that she just might be completely serious about handing out that punishment.

"Who's grounded until they're thirty?" Sara asks as she invites herself into my room.

"Lindsey," Nikki, Catherine, and I helpfully answer.

"What happened?" Sara asks through a sigh.

This time Nikki and Catherine aren't so helpful. They both turn to me to explain. "Last night Lindsey ran off and ended up at a party and I tracked her down and there was a boy she was making out with and I pulled them apart and choked him a little bit but he's fine. I didn't really hurt him and so that means I lied last night. When you called Lindsey had already run off and I was chasing her down but I didn't want to tell you because I knew a lot of stuff was already going on at your work." I am sort of hoping that Sara didn't catch all that since I didn't bother to enunciate or talk coherently.

Sara looks at Catherine and Catherine for some reason or another nods. Sara takes a deep breath and closes her eyes but not for too long because she's seriously invading my space within seconds. "Did anything happen to you?"

Maybe Nikki has a good idea about digitally recording conversations. "No. Close but no."

Her hand goes onto my knee, "Okay."

Okay? Just okay? "Okay."

"Did you leave everyone alone downstairs?" Catherine asks Sara helpfully reminding us that we aren't the only ones in the house.

"Yeah," Sara is still looking at me. "I came up because I wanted to know if you wanted to join us for breakfast."

"No," I reply immediately. I sound a little panicked. "There's no way I can handle being around that many people right now, not after last night." I shrug. "Things got too close to the surface, again."

Sara's hand that is still on my knee rubs against my leg. "Okay, I understand." She moves herself away from me and back towards the door. Catherine grabs her hand and leads her the rest of the way out saying something about Lindsey as they exit.

Nikki stays in my room and stares at me from the end of my bed. She doesn't say anything, she just stares. Her stare prompts me to jump off my bed and move to my closet to grab some clothes. "Fine," I say as a pull at the garments, "I'll see you downstairs for breakfast and will talk to Lindsey." I'm not happy about doing any of this and let Nikki know it by ignoring her as I walk out of my room to make my way to the bathroom. If I end up acting all crazy again in front of Sara's and Catherine's work people then I'm totally blaming it on Nikki for glare pushing me into not holding up in the safety of my room.


	52. Chapter 52

**Chapter 52**

Somehow, I have no idea how, food has managed to be distributed and eaten. By the time I made it downstairs Sara and Catherine were still in Lindsey's room having a very loud conversation. I took it upon myself to start cooking the food, I figured the sooner I get these guys and gals eating then the sooner they would leave. That hasn't been really sound logic thus far. Everyone has been eating but no one has been leaving, as a matter of fact I think a few more have been arriving. I'm not going to cook anymore food.

"So how is it that Sara and Catherine have managed to keep you a secret for so long?" A guy I don't know asks me as he crams another piece of bacon in his mouth.

I take a very long sip of my orange juice while I debate whether or not I want to talk to him. A look from Catherine, apparently she has somehow finally managed to get downstairs just in time to give me one of her 'parental look' warnings, tells me to open my mouth and play nice. "I wouldn't say they have. I haven't been around so long."

"Yeah, Sara said she was your sister," he's still packing the food in. Who is this guy? Sara owes me big time for ever coming down here to entertain these people. I don't belong in this world of hers. She's made that perfectly clear.

"Thanks for cooking," Sara's voice says from behind me. I didn't see her approaching. "If it were up to me, it would have never gotten done."

It's been a busy morning. "I was happy to do it," even if my intention was to get people out of here.

"Hey Sara, your sister is really talented," the still unnamed man says, this time forgoing the act of putting food in his mouth.

"She's not my sister, Gordon," so we finally have a name, "she's my daughter."

He looks confused. "But you said…"

"She's my daughter," Sara says with a little bit of force behind her words.

I've decided to stand here and watch the exchange play out. If I say something then this moment might disappear or I might be expected to come up with some kind of intelligent comment that I just don't feel coming at the moment, what with being completely struck dumb and all.

"Okay then," Gordon replies slowly. "Your daughter." He nods at Sara a couple of times then wanders away from us onto someone else to harass.

"So who's Gordon?" I don't look directly at her. I keep my eyes focused on Gordon.

"An officer who helped with Nick," I don't think she's looking at me either, but in order to find out for sure I would have to look at her and I'm not so comfortable with doing that now. I really don't have any idea as to how to respond to watch just happened.

We're both saved from saying something else when another man walks up to us. He looks nothing like Gordon and almost seems like he's old enough to be my father. He, for the most part, completely avoids me and directs all of his attention to Sara. He doesn't even bother to introduce himself to me. I'd take his presence as an opportunity to walk away and go back upstairs into my safe zone, but since I'm still in a semi-stupor my feet aren't moving.

"It was good to have you back tonight, Sara. I want you back full-time." He's not really one for small talk is he? In the very least he could have thanked me for cooking him breakfast; it's not like he ate any less than anybody else. At least, I think I remember him eating something. Who is this guy again?

Sara puts her hand on my waist and I do my best not to jump a little at the contact. "I can't go back full-time."

Before this guy can come up with a reply to Sara, Catherine joins us and takes control of the conversation by making a comment about people being in her house that she doesn't recognize. She says it's like someone screamed out free food and every hungry officer and CSI off duty decided to show up.

My stupor finally ends with the inane comments, don't know why, and I manage to find my voice again. "I think I'm done with social interaction. I'm going back upstairs."

"Okay," Sara brushes a strand of my hair from my face. "You should try and get some sleep. You look tired."

"We'll kick everyone out of here soon too, Mel," Catherine's hand goes to my shoulder. "So you don't have to stay upstairs if you don't want to."

"I think I'm going to try sleeping," I tell Catherine. "If anyone gets the notion to start yelling at me again, feel free to come up." I smile a bit and so do Sara and Catherine. This feels like a moment where I should take the time to give a hug to them or something, but I'm not comfortable with initiating physical affection so I let the moment pass.

I offer a quick goodbye to the man standing in front of me and am able to catch his muffled question to Sara asking her if, 'I'm her'. Like before, I don't hang out to figure out what the question means exactly--although I'm pretty sure I can offer up a pretty decent guess--and I don't hang out to hear Sara's response. I'm not so sure I could get moving again if she all up and decides to start telling everyone she talks to that I'm her daughter.

So I walk away, and as I do I catch a glimpse of Greg and Mr. Brown chatting away in a corner. They each wave to me and I give a brief wave and a half smile back. The polite thing to do would be to walk up to them, but like I told Sara, I'm kind of done with the social interaction thing. So I walk past them and up the stairs.

When I get to my room I find that Lindsey and Nikki have already escaped the crowd and instead of escaping to Lindsey's room have decided to escape to mine. "Why aren't you two downstairs enjoying the delights of the late twenty-something to the thirty-something to the forty-something to the fifty-something crowd downstairs?"

"We find we don't have a lot in common with them," Nikki tells me as she pats the small space on the bed left between her and Lindsey. I'm tired enough to squeeze in between them and at least try to ignore that they are breathing much too loudly around me.

"Are you angry I told Mom about what happened?" Lindsey must be asking me because I don't think she has a reason to ask Nikki the question.

"No," I barely open my mouth to answer and don't bother with opening my eyes which have somehow managed to close and stay that way.

"Are you sure?" Lindsey's voice has gotten closer to me but I force my eyes to stay shut. She can get as close as she wants; I'm not going to move.

"Yes." I'm as sure as I can be right now. I haven't been punished yet and I'm not even sure I'm going to be punished. I'm not sure what kind of punishment Sara and Catherine could come up with for me. It wouldn't make a difference if they grounded me because it's not like I'm trying to really go anywhere. I guess they could ban Nikki from coming over here and me from going to her place, but that doesn't work in their interest. Nikki is the one who is around 'keeping an eye' on me when they can't be around.

That would mean that I'm unpunishable or not punishable, rather. I should really get back into school or something because my brain cells are seriously starting to get dumb-er. I can almost remember a time when I actually knew about things that were going on outside in the world. I knew things about physics and chemistry and biology. I did stupid things like writing papers about someone who I was supposed look up to in the world or respected.

Of course, I also remember those times as being the ones, for the most part, where I was beaten by my parents. They were the times where I did crazy things like participate in physical fights for hardly any reason at all. They were the times I slept with any girl/woman that peaked my interest a little bit. They were the days when I didn't know what was 'officially' wrong with me.

And now? Now I'm diagnosed and have problems interacting with crowds like the one that is downstairs. The only reason, I'm convinced, that I was able to stay downstairs as long as I did was because I was focused on doing something the entire time. It's a trick Dr. Roberson threw at me, since she figured I was going to start interacting in the public more. She told me to only focus on one thing at a time and to keep my focus. So when I was cooking breakfast, that's all I was focused on doing. When I was eating the food, that's all I was focused on doing. I have to focus on accomplishing one thing at a time.

I'm not up to taking things a day at a time yet; I'm only up to taking things a second at a time. Roberson told me to focus on each second and then on each minute after that. She says if I can do that then all those seconds and minutes will add up to my lifetime. It makes sense, in a psychobabble kind of way.

It's how I survived last night too, isn't it? I mean, I focused on getting Lindsey but it was broken down into the first, second, third type of order. I focused on catching up with her, then on getting to the house, then on finding her in the house. I didn't mush it all together; I broke it down into manageable steps.

But I still did choke that boy. I still did it so that person that lived in the past before the big diagnosis is still resting inside of me. I think she always will be. I couldn't cut her out of me.

"Are you sleeping?" Lindsey whispers loudly into my left ear.

"No she's not," Nikki answers for me in the same type of loud whisper.

"How do you know?" Lindsey has moved away from my ear and her voice is coming from above me now. "She looks like she's sleeping."

"I can just tell," Nikki shifts on the bed and pokes me in the side. I squirm away from her and tell her to leave me alone. Lindsey must take this as a sign that I really don't want to sleep because she asks me why I'm not angry at her.

"I don't want you to be angry at me, Mel," Lindsey tells me and for the first time since I decided to lie down I open my eyes.

"When your mom and Sara were talking to you earlier did they try to explain to you why what you did was so dangerous?" I'm sure they did and I don't feel like repeating a lecture she's already gotten.

Lindsey nods but doesn't say anything. Maybe I should clarify my question a little bit because it kind of requires a verbal response. "Did they tell you why it was so dangerous for me?"

"Kinda, I guess. They said something could have happened to you, like you lose control or something, but mostly they told me what I did was dangerous because I'm too young to do anything and if I do stupid things something awful could happen to me or whatever."

It seems like she was paying really close attention to them, or not. But, if they didn't tell her exactly what I could have ended up doing then they might have a reason for that. I don't want to override their reasoning or anything, but this is 'me' we're talking about here. I think I have a right to give a full story to anyone I want to. Lindsey is just going to have to handle it, especially if she and I are going to be alone together and she thinks of doing something like this again.

"I could have killed that guy you were kissing, Lindsey," it's important that she knows that, "and I don't mean that in the way that your mom would say something like that. I mean it in the way that I could actually have killed him if I had started to hallucinate again."

Lindsey's eyes are wide and she seems a little anxious. "What do you mean?"

How do I possibly explain this to her? "It's not like I'm a crazy killer or anything but there's a reason I can't jump back into school and into what I was doing in life before I ended up in the hospital. I simply can't handle it like a normal person could. A lot of my hallucinations have manifested themselves physically into me hurting myself or me hurting someone else, because I don't see…" this is hard.

"She doesn't see us, Lindsey," Nikki thankfully takes over for me. "She sees what happened to her in the past. So you running away isn't just about you being selfish and wanting something your way. It's also about putting Mel at risk too because she cared enough about you to go after you and to try and keep you safe."

"I know it isn't fair, Lindsey," I don't know if I've said that to her yet. "I know that me not being normal kind of bleeds into your ability and everyone else's ability to be normal too. I realize that, now at least, and I'm sorry."

"Mom didn't tell me that," Lindsey says softly with a slight bit of humor in her voice, I think. "Will it ever change? Will you be normal again?"

Those are the big questions aren't they?

"It is changing, Lindsey." Nikki answers. "Things are a lot better than they were a while ago."

"But I won't ever be normal," It's the simple truth. "I'll always need medication. I'll need therapy probably always too. I may accomplish a semi-kind of normal but I won't ever be 'normal'."

Lindsey doesn't say anything for a long while. She stares down at me since I never bothered to sit up, but she doesn't say anything. If I were in her position I'm not sure what I could come up with to say.

"Lindsey!" Catherine calls from the hallway. "One of your friend's is on the phone."

It's amazing that I never manage to hear the phone ringing. "Okay, Mom!" Lindsey yells back and immediately jumps off the bed and is running out of the room seemingly forgetting about the conversation we were just having.

Nikki and I are left alone now. "Sara said I was her daughter," I admit because I've been holding onto it too long. I couldn't talk about it with Lindsey in the room.

"I know," Nikki nods. "That's why you needed to go downstairs, Mel. You needed to see her do it."

"She recognized me, Nikki" I don't know where they came from but tears are running down my face now. They weren't there a few moments ago with Lindsey or even when Sara first said I was her daughter, but they are here now. They're here and I can't stop them.

Nikki's arms pull me closer to her. "She loves you, Mel. You belong in every part of her life."

"She's my mom. She really is my mom."

Nikki doesn't say anything but her arms shift and she starts moving away from me. I don't know what she's doing until I feel someone else sliding in next to me. I can hardly see through my tears but I can see that it's Sara that is taking Nikki's place. I didn't hear her walk into the room.

I want to stop crying and I want to pull away or at least I think that's what I should want. I don't want that though, so my arms go around her as best as I can manage in my position and I cry into her chest. I cry for the first time in my life because I'm happy about something. Sara's my mother because she said she is. It's more than just the biology of it now. I can think of her as Mom now instead of as a mixture between Mom and Sara.

She's my mom. She's mine now, for real.


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter 53**

Mom's gone back to part-time employment these days. That means that for at least part of the day I'm left alone with Lindsey, who apparently is being shipped off to private school. I'm not sure how that happened because I wasn't part of the conversation, but from what I understand Catherine was unhappy with the influences that surrounded Lindsey in her former school. It probably has something to do with Lindsey having friends that are willing to enable her running away. I didn't really talk to them about it though, because I figure it's not really any of my business. It really became none of my interest, really, when Mom asked me what I thought about getting a private tutor to start up with my own school stuff again and start thinking about college.

Roberson, apparently, thinks I'm ready to transition back into my education. She thinks it will give me more focus on my future, or something. She even thinks I should work my way up to joining a gym because she wants me to start working out again. Apparently all the talk about exercise and the brain isn't just some fad being fed to everyone on prime time news programs. Exercise is actually being used as a therapy type device. Roberson recommended to me that I take some kind of martial arts class, though. She wants me to be better able to handle my physical strength or something like that.

So Mom and I are going to interview some tutors when we get a free moment in life. She thinks that free moment will be tomorrow at 2:00pm, but I'm reluctant to commit to the date and time. I'm reluctant to commit to showing up to interview anyone for anything actually. I'm not so comfortable with the idea of all these things that everyone seems to want to happen. I'm thinking that maybe it should take a little longer to transition.

Catherine told me that if we were going to go precisely by my plan for transitioning then I would never transition anywhere. That's probably why she made the appointment to interview the tutor for Mom and me. Mom was on my side until Catherine talked her out of it. I think she said something about coddling or enabling or something. I wasn't really paying attention all that much when she was talking because I pretty much knew that as soon as she started talking I had lost the battle. I should know by now that I need to talk Catherine into things before I try to get Mom to do something, because Mom really looks to Catherine to help her make the 'right' decisions about me.

I'm not being forced into joining up on some community center class or anything though. Mom and Catherine want to see how the tutoring goes first before they enroll me in something else. They don't want to do too much all at once since now they consider watching Lindsey a thing to transition into as well, especially since she's so not happy with starting up in the new school. Every time she comes home she sits in my room for like an hour and tells me how un-cool her new school is. Then she asks me for help on her homework because her new school is harder, or like Catherine likes to say, 'academically more challenging' than her other one.

I try to act mature and tell her that her new school is giving her more of an opportunity to be a better student than her other one, but that doesn't seems to work so much, and the last time I told her that she's in the school she's in now because she fucked up she got angry at me and started yelling then marched off to Catherine and said that I called her a fuck up. Catherine marched up to my room and asked me what I said to Lindsey and then told me I should have handled the situation better. So now I just stick to telling her that her school is giving her more of an opportunity, like one time, then sit and listen to her bitch about it knowing that eventually she's going to ask for help on her homework again never realizing that I stopped listening to her a long time ago.

Maybe I should have made an argument to Catherine and Mom that I didn't need a tutor since I've been doing Lindsey's schoolwork and that's all I need to do, for now. They probably wouldn't have bought it though. They probably would have said something about Lindsey's work being easy to me since I'm older than her.

My alarm on my watch goes off and effectively reminds me that I need to stop staring blankly at the television screen. It's time I get up and take all the medication that I'll be on forever and ever. I'm only sixteen, getting really close to seventeen actually, and I already have a pill box that I put all my weekly doses in. I'm even privileged enough to have a pill cutter, making me that much closer to being a senior citizen.

"Have you taken your medicine yet?" Lindsey asks me from the bottom of the staircase.

"Have you finished all of your homework?" I know that she probably hasn't since she's been yelling in the phone for the last hour about how hard her life is to one of her friends from her former school, a friend that Catherine probably doesn't want Lindsey talking to at all.

At least she was complaining to her friend about her new school instead of me, though. That's the only reason why I tend to not monitor Lindsey's phone calls as closely as Catherine probably wants me to.

Lindsey disappears into the kitchen and comes out a few moments later with a cup of water in her right hand and all my pills in her left. I smile as I take the items from her, "This one," I pick out one of the capsules, "requires I take food with it to prevent a stomach ache."

"Okay," she walks back in the kitchen and I can almost immediately hear her banging stuff together. I probably should have just told her that milk would do too.

I swallow the pills before Lindsey gets back with a plain grape jelly sandwich for me to eat. "Thanks," I swallow most of the sandwich in one bite. "So where's your homework?"

"Upstairs," Lindsey reaches across my lap and takes hold of the television remote. "It's something about mitosis or meiosis or something."

"Usually they are taught together," I reach over and grab the remote from Lindsey then turn off the television. "Go get your work. I don't want to be working on cell division at two in the morning."

"Mitosis and meiosis are about cell division?"

Before I get a chance to respond to Lindsey's complete lack of knowledge in the subject she's supposed to be studying, the front door opens and thankfully Mom steps through it. That means she can explain cell division to Lindsey and leave me to my previous activity of blankly staring at the television screen. It'd be good for them to spend some quality biology focused time together.

"Hey Sara," Lindsey calls over to Mom. "Did you bring food home?"

"Yep." Mom holds up a paper bag then makes her way into the kitchen. Lindsey jumps up to follow her and I turn back on the television. I know that eventually I'll be called to go eat dinner but I'm not going into the kitchen too early, if I do then I'll have to help do something.

"Sara said you need to set the table for us," Lindsey tells me as she comes back into the living room.

"Why don't you have to do it?"

Lindsey smiles, "I'm busy doing homework."

I growl at her but get up and make my way to the kitchen anyway. It's the least I can do since I'm no longer going to help Lindsey with her homework anymore. She's just going to have to actually read one of her textbooks for a change.

Mom smiles at me as I drag my feet into the kitchen and then drag my feet over to the cabinets that hold all the plates. "I know you're not talking to me right now," she says as I pull down three plates, "but I need to know that you're going to be here tomorrow to interview the tutor. You should at least have some say in who you're going to spend so much time with."

I stopped talking to her when she sided with Catherine and decided that getting me a tutor would be a good idea. It's lasted about two days now and I find that I'm really not as angry as I think I should be. That's the thing with all the medication I'm on these days, it's starting to make me feel this elusive 'normalness' so the reactions I'm used to having aren't really happening anymore. I kind of find myself acting more and more like I think I would have instead of acting like how I feel. If that makes any sort of sense at all.

Roberson says I need to start erasing my previous normal and let a new normal form. She wants me to start making a schedule for my daily routines and stuff. She even wants me to pencil in one night a week where I stay over at Nikki's instead of at home. She says it will give me a chance to become as independent as I used to be.

"Hey," Sara's hand is on my arm steadying the plates in my hand, "are you okay?" I don't jump at her touch like I normally do.

"I'm not angry at you, Mom." I release the plates and let her stronger hands take them from me. I'm not quite used to calling her 'Mom' yet, but I'm sure with practice the ease will come. It still kind of throws her when I call her Mom too, because she always gets this weird look on her face like she can't quite believe that she is actually a parent. It's something we'll both have to get used to, and I know it's something neither of us is going to give up on at this point. I mean, we've just been working too hard for this.

She nods. "I know."

"How?" I haven't even been willing to admit it until recently.

"I've seen you really angry at me."

I grin. "Oh yeah."

She laughs and puts the plates down on the counter. "It's hard for you Mel, I get that."

"Did Dr. Roberson explain it to you?" I find that my parent's relationship with my mental health doctor features heavy communication.

"No. She told Catherine."

"Catherine told you." I'm living in a domino effect.

Mom nods and the seriousness that was around before has come back. "Are you okay?"

I shrug my shoulders and force myself to maintain eye contact. "It's confusing, y'know? I mean, I know how I used to act and all but that way doesn't seem to fit with me anymore. I don't feel the same intensity of emotion anymore. When I get angry it's not the homicidal angry I used to get and when I get depressed it's not the suicidal depression I used to get. I'm so used to the extremes I don't know what the in-betweens are."

I'm waiting for some kind of response from Mom but she's just staring at me with this surprised look on her face. I was under the impression that someone had talked to her about this before. "Are you okay?" I ask.

"Yeah," Mom nods a few times. "You've just been surprising me a lot lately."

"Surprising?"

"You're talking to me, Melinda."

"Oh." I guess I can remember a time when I didn't talk to her, at all, and she didn't really talk to me at all either. We still don't talk intimately all that much. It's not an every day thing, but it has gotten easier. It's gotten easier just like letting her touch me has gotten easier and hearing her say my name has gotten easier and being with her has gotten easier, and well just about everything having to do with her has gotten easier.

"You're doing really well, Melinda. I'm really proud of you."

Happiness is new to me. It's not something I've experienced a lot of and it's not something I'm rolling in now, but when Sara smiles at me and I know she's smiling because of me it gives me some happiness. She's not my grandmother. She's not the woman who only told me she was proud of me sarcastically as I failed at something. Sara smiles at me and says she's proud because she really is proud. I really do have her approval and support.

"Okay." It's not a brilliant response but it's all I can say. I don't have a lot of experience with these sorts of things. I haven't had a lot of parents who are actually my parents lining up and telling me that they're proud of me. "I'll finish setting the table," I move my gaze away from my mom to the small kitchen table, "or I'll start on it, rather."

Mom lets me walk away from her and re-focus my attention on something else. Eventually I get the table set and dinner is served. I tell Mom about Lindsey's homework and she gives me the reprieve for the night in helping Lindsey by promising that she'll help Lindsey with understanding cell biology. The night ends up feeling like it could be part of a new normal that could probably only be a little better if Catherine was around to yell at Lindsey for waiting until the last minute to do her homework. Mom tends to be a little more tolerant about that kind of stuff.

Hey, maybe Mom will agree to getting me a tutor that believes in the student setting their own pace, like that new age teaching technique or whatever it's called. That way I can try my best to avoid complete interaction until I actually have a grasp on what reactions are normal reactions. So that will probably be in about twenty to thirty years.


	54. Chapter 54

**Chapter 54**

"So they hired this tutor for me who obviously doesn't understand the first thing about tutoring special people."

"Mel, you're not a 'special' person."

"You only say that now because you can see the normal in me, Nikki."

Nikki tightens the hold she already has on my hand and pulls me to a complete stop. "It's a beautiful thing to see too. It's especially good to see that it's sticking around for a while."

"I wouldn't get too excited yet."

"I would."

It's Tuesday night and in a very rare occurrence Catherine, Mom and Nikki have all been given the night off by the great city of Las Vegas. At first, I thought there might be some kind of strike going on that I hadn't heard about, but that doesn't seem to be the case. It's just a once in a lifetime type thing.

So, since we're all never in the same place at the same time, we've decided to go out as a family for the night, despite it being a school night for some of us. It was Nikki's idea to go out into the public sphere and I was dead set against it, but Nikki had the help of the parentals and somehow they all managed to talk me into it. It's still hard for me to go out and experience life in the grander than my personal space type way, but I've got to do it. I've got to walk out the door and experience what's outside of the doors and be okay with freaking out if that were to happen for some reason or another.

At least that's what Roberson is trying to get me to think these days.

They decided to take me to a movie, so that shouldn't be that bad considering that it doesn't include a whole lot of interaction with other people. I can sit down, close to an exit, and hope that I can focus all my attention on whatever movie it is that they're dragging me to. Hopefully it's a mindless action film or a meaningless comedy. I don't really think my first movie going experience with the meds should involve a heart wrenching drama.

"So what do you have against your tutor now?" Nikki and I have started walking towards the concession stand again, having somehow been voted to take care of all the snacks.

"He's started me on college level material, it's like he doesn't understand that I'm still in high school." Despite the anxiety I'm feeling right now, I think it's best I try and focus on something other than all the people that surround us.

"Well you should have skipped high school altogether. You're practically a genius, Mel."

"So he's already talked you into believing that too, huh?"

"No, you talked me into believing it a long time ago, and after finally getting a chance to meet your mother, it makes more sense now. I mean, let's face it, your grandparents weren't exactly the smartest people in the world."

"Well Mom had to get it from somewhere."

"Yeah, probably divine intervention."

Before I have a chance to reply I hear my name being called out by a voice I haven't heard in a while. Nikki's hands go to my waist, for support I think. "Jenny?"

Slowly Jenny walks up to me but doesn't come too close. "I'm surprised to see you, Mel."

"Yeah, I don't really so much get out that often anymore."

Jenny nods and the awkwardness has officially set in.

"So what are you doing here?" I know that's a stupid question but I don't know what else to say.

She points to her uniform and suddenly I feel even more stupid.

"A job's good to have."

"So are you two here, alone, together?" Jenny asks me doing her best not to look directly at Nikki.

"No," Nikki answers, "It's a family night out type thing."

"Family night?"

"Yeah," It's good I didn't take my medicine that long ago. I'm on a fresh dosage to handle this situation. "Catherine, Mom, Lindsey and the two of us. The whole gang really."

Nikki's hands fall from my waist and I'm not so much digging the feeling of that right now. Before I can turn my head to see what she's doing, she whispers into my ear that I need to handle this and that she's going to go get all the stuff. She kisses my neck, for my benefit, I think, then leaves me alone with Jenny, although we are surrounded by faceless nameless people.

"So you're all a family now, huh?"

Jenny sounds a little less happy about that and a little more of something else. Anger maybe? I don't know. "It's certainly going in that direction, except Mom and Catherine can't make anything official yet, y'know because of the state of the nation and all. Though I think I caught wind of Catherine wanting to adopt me or something, though there's been no official conversation with me or anything."

"And Nikki?"

"I don't think Nikki really needs to be officially adopted by anyone, but she's considered just as much a part of the family as anyone else, I guess. Mom and Catherine seem to like her, for the most part." I don't feel like I should mention their slight unease with the idea of Nikki and I being together, together. They're working through it nicely though. I think they're trying out the 'we trust you' thing and all.

Jenny steps closer to me and I force myself not to take a step backward. "You could have called me more than once, Mel. I was…am worried sick about you. It's like you fell off the planet or something and then reappear in a hospital bed with this mysterious person named Nikki and everyone starts telling me that I need to stay away from you for your own good. I mean, what the hell, Melinda!"

I need to take that step back now. "You were kinda left in the dark and I'm sorry about that. Really. You know there's just a lot of stuff, a lot of stuff I can't explain to you in five minutes in the middle of a movie theater lobby."

"So I should expect you to call me?"

I'm not so much digging her tone right now. "I'm sorry you got hurt, Jenny, and it seems like you might be hurting right now, so I'm sorry for that too but I've pretty much done what I've had to do to survive. Whether you get that or not, well I'm not sure it really matters."

"I need to get back to work." Jenny starts turning away from me but I grab her hand before she can fully escape.

"I'd call you or offer to meet with you if I thought that would make a difference. I would, but I think hearing what I have to say would only hurt you more, and I don't want to do that."

Jenny's eyes lock onto mine then her hand falls out of mine and straightens out the mildly ugly uniform she's wearing. "You're different."

"I have to be."

"I know."

We stare at each other for a few more moments, but Nikki reappears breaking whatever connection Jenny and I might have been forming. "Are you going to meet us back in the theater?" Nikki asks me.

"No," I shake my head. "You'll need help with all that stuff you're trying to carry back."

"I could manage if I have to," Nikki offers.

"But you don't have to," I reach out and take away one of the popcorns she's holding. "I'm supposed to be here helping, that's why I got forced to come along, right?"

"I could have just wanted the company."

"I need to go back to work." This time I don't reach out to Jenny to stop her. But I do tell her that if she needs to call me then she can. I promise not to ignore her phone calls or anything.

Nikki starts leading me back to theater and doesn't ask about my conversation with Jenny. I don't see why she would need to. I am walking back to the theater with her, to go back to… our family, I guess.

"What took you so long?" Lindsey immediately asks as she grabs at the gummy bears she asked for.

"Long lines," Nikki answers as she finishes distributing the food.

"We thought we'd have to send out Sara to go looking for you," Catherine smiles at us as we crawl over them to make it back to our seats.

"Don't worry, you get to keep the night off," I smile back. The theater lights dim and the previews start up. I take my seat between Mom and Nikki trying to not focus on the confrontation I had with Jenny. I want this to be one of my few nights out focused on being with the people that surround me now, the most important people.

"Everything okay," Mom leans in and asks me softly. "You're looking a little off. Do we need to leave? None of us would mind, really."

"No, no," I hurry to respond, "No we don't have to leave. I just ran into Jenny in the lobby. It was…unexpected."

"Did she do something to you, say something?"

"Not really. She's angry though. I get why, I think."

"What's going on?" Catherine leans over Mom to get to me. "Is something going on?"

"Mel ran into Jenny in the lobby," Mom quickly explains to Catherine. "She was angry."

"Who was angry? Jenny?"

"Yeah," I whisper as quietly as possible to Catherine.

Someone behind us tells us to shut up, but Catherine ignores them, "Did she do something to you, say something?"

Nikki laughs out loud and I squeeze her hand that has somehow found mine. She shouldn't laugh at Catherine like that.

"She's hurt, I think, by everything," I explain for the benefit of Mom and Catherine and probably a little bit for Nikki too. Lindsey seems to be completely oblivious to anything going on, which is her new thing to do these days. She likes ignoring us all and pretending like we don't exist to her. I've been told it's a normal teenage girl phase.

Catherine nods her understanding but Mom asks, "She didn't hurt you though, did she?"

"No." She looks satisfied for the moment and turns back to the screen. Catherine returns to sitting correctly in her seat and the conversation appears to be over for the moment. I'm sure it will come up again as soon as the movie is over. They'll want every detail they can get out of me, but there's really not that much to tell.

I highly doubt that Jenny is going to try and call me. I wouldn't call if I were in her shoes. I'm not really looking to mend any fences. I'm still not in any condition to start reaching out to people to try and rekindle friendships or anything. I'm not that strong yet.

"Let it go now, Mel," Nikki whispers to me. "If Jenny becomes an issue we'll handle it."

"I know."

"Good," she kisses me on the temple, and this time I know for sure that it's for my benefit. We turn back to the movie, which is only now just beginning and I settle in and prepare myself to watch whatever it is we're seeing here. This will probably be the last time we get to go out like this for a while; I should at least try and enjoy this and be thankful for this small handout of normal that going out with my family can offer.


	55. Chapter 55

**Chapter 55**

"You're not concentrating on working these problems out, Melinda. You're going to have to work harder if you expect me to continue tutoring you."

"Is that supposed to be a threat?" Cause I really don't see it as a threat. Ever since Catherine and Mom hired this Maxwell guy to tutor me he's been a big pain in my mental-ass. He gave me one stupid little IQ test and now thinks that I'm like his next great prodigy or something, or maybe his first great prodigy. He's a graduate student at the university and tutoring is how he makes extra money cause apparently working for the university as a lab section instructor doesn't pay enough to keep him in house and home. Or so he's said. Repeatedly. Like a whole lot.

"Melinda, you're a really smart kid, but all you're doing right now is wasting my time, your time, and your parents' money."

"All this stuff," My hands wave over the books that are covering the dining room table, "isn't even about me, man. It's not what I signed up for. I'm not trying to aim higher."

"Well you should be. You've got to aim somewhere because if you don't then you're just going to end up nowhere."

What's completely surprising is that this guy is completely serious when he says stuff like this. He doesn't break into a little smile at all. He really means and believes in what he's talking about. Somehow he's gotten it into his head that he needs to push me into 'believing in my education'.

Catherine and Mom don't see a problem with him. They don't think that him pushing me a little is a bad thing, although they have told me that I need to do what I'm comfortable with. Talk about mixed signals.

"Maxwell, I am aiming somewhere."

Max's body deflates and he falls back into the chair across from me. "Do you know why I'm pushing you so hard, Mel? Why your parents are letting me push you so hard?"

"Do I want to know?" I've found that some things go along a lot better when I don't know about them. I still need to take things in small doses. Sometimes a small dose means complete ignorance.

Max smiles. "I think you might."

"You think too much, Maxy." He usually hates it when I call him that, but today he must have found his sense of humor because he's still smiling. "So why don't you do some productive thinking and explain to me all the problems I got wrong on this stupid test you forced me to take."

The smile stays on his face but he allows the conversation he was trying to lead me into pass us by. He pulls his chair closer to mine and starts going over the test. He thoroughly explains to me every problem I've gotten wrong and how it is I got it wrong. Most of it, in his opinion, comes down to the fact that I wasn't really trying. He might be right about that, but he's kind of wrong about it too.

Simple truth is it's harder for me to focus on school stuff with the meds I'm on. Before, all this stuff came easier. I was looking through a clear piece of glass down into the answers. Now, the glass is foggy and I need to wipe at it a little before I can see the solutions. It's not like everything is impossible to do, and I honestly am still pretty good at it, but it's not as easy as it was.

I'm not really into admitting this to anyone, either. I'm not sure how they all would react. I don't want to be pitied, though I doubt they would pity me. I don't want to really be coddled either. Catherine and Mom are just now easing out of the extreme suffocation mode they have been in. I don't know how I want them to react.

"I've lost you again, Melinda."

"No you haven't." Yeah he has. But sometimes I can't help these things. I've got a lot of stuff to think about, like all the time, and he's constantly asking me to think more.

He drops the pencil he was using to point out all my errors and leans back in his chair. "You're not a very good liar."

"You don't think so?"

"You're not any good at all."

The irony of this makes me chuckle a little. "I used to be. I used to be really good at it. I could lie about anything and everything and I never felt bad about it at all."

Max's face gets all serious all the sudden, well more serious anyway. "That's really hard for me to believe."

"It's getting harder for me to believe it too."

Max sits and looks at me for a moment then leans forward and starts gathering up all the loose papers that lay across the dining room table. "I think we're done for the day."

I stand up and start helping him gather up everything. It doesn't take us long to transform the dining room table back into actually being a dining room table instead of a really long and fancy desk. Maxwell eventually says his farewells to me and makes his way off to do whatever it is he does when he's not bothering me.

"You get a lot of work done today?"

Catherine's very unexpected voice forces me to jump backwards into the door I just closed. The impact hurts. "Where the heck did you come from?" I thought Maxwell and I had been alone. We usually are.

She's laughing but somehow manages to answer me. "Sara and I came home a little while ago."

"Why?" They aren't supposed to be back here until, well, I'm not sure their shift has even started yet. "Is something wrong?"

"Somehow your mother got food poisoning, so I brought her back here, despite her very loud protests."

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah," Catherine nods. "Don't worry, she'll be fine."

"I'm not worried." I must have sounded worried. "But, she's okay, right?"

"She's lying down right now. I don't want to, but I need to go back to work. There's a lot of…stuff going on."

Catherine and Mom are really stringent about keeping their work life out of our home life. Sometimes it bleeds through, because what they do is probably like really close to the worse job in the world, but for the most part they keep it separate but equal. When they're behind closed doors I'm sure they stay up and talk about their cases or whatever, but they keep it away from Lindsey and me. Although, that doesn't stop me from watching the news every so often or from Nikki sharing with me some of the stuff she hears about when working dispatch.

I kind of think that Mom and Catherine need to keep the separation more than Lindsey and I need the separating. I'm not about to try and understand everything they go through with their jobs. I'm pretty sure I told Mom what seems like a million years ago now that I couldn't do her job. That holds double true today.

"I'll take care of Mom, Cath. If there are any problems I promise to call your cell number, your work number, and page you and I'll even call Nikki so that she can dispatch to you, or whatever." I'm a big girl, right? As long as Mom doesn't start throwing up everywhere or anything, we're good. I don't want to clean up throw up. "Is Mom throwing up?"

"Not anymore." No problems then. "She might start up again though. I have no idea what she ate."

Catherine's cell phone starts to ring and she picks it up. I signal to her that I'm going to go upstairs and she barely nods as she hurries off to take the call out of my vicinity. I make my way up the stairs and carefully into Mom's bedroom where I'm met with the sight of Mom curled up on the bed looking quite ill.

"Cath?" She calls out softly not bothering to even lift her head or open her eyes.

"Uh, not quite."

"Mel?"

The second time's a charm. I walk up the rest of the way to the bed and sit on the edge. "You look awful."

Mom opens one eye, "Thanks."

"No, I mean, you look really bad. Pale and stuff."

"Mel." She doesn't sound like she's in the mood for the truth.

"Do you need anything?"

"My gun?" So her sense of humor hasn't completely disappeared, and I know she's being humorous because her gun is on the night stand next to her. If she really wanted it she could just reach over. That couldn't be too painful, could it?

"I don't think that would be a good idea." Catherine must have left the gun out accidentally while she was settling Mom in. I reach over and pick it up in case Mom does decide to reach for it in her crazy food poisoning haze. I unload it to prepare it for proper storage. "Where do you lock this thing up?"

Both of Mom's eyes have opened and she's almost in a half sitting position. "Do you know how to load it properly too?"

I look down at my hands and their contents. I've done something a little stupid, maybe. I wasn't even thinking when I picked it up. I guess I can't do anything but accept my moment of stupidity and not play dumb. "Yeah. I use to mess around with these when I was…a while ago. There were a couple of guys I hung out with who would purposefully get the standard police issues, y'know like this, and redistribute them. I never asked them why they did it that way cause, y'know, you don't ask questions."

Mom lies back down but lifts her arm and points to the closet. "The keys are in the closet and the box is in a place under the bed."

"Cool." I get up and walk over to the closet to find the keys.

"Do you still have these guys' names?" Mom asks weakly.

"And addresses," I say mostly to the closet door. "They were involved in some drug stuff too, but mostly they were the local gun specialists. You could get anything you wanted from them, really."

"How did you meet them?" Catherine's voice scares me yet again but this time I don't end up jumping into a door.

I turn around and Catherine's got her hands on her hips and she looks ready for a fight. "Bad phone call?"

Catherine's stance relaxes a bit and she doesn't so much look like she wants to start a brawl with me in the middle of the bedroom. "You didn't answer my question."

"Yeah, I know." I step closer to the bed which happens to be a little further away from Catherine. I'm not sure if Mom is up to blocking Catherine if she comes after me but I have to do what I can. "I met them at a party. They offered me a way to get money."

"How?" Mom and Catherine both ask at the same time.

"Just to help them move the guns around, really."

"You sold them?" Mom asks.

"A couple, yeah." Honesty, right? That's what we're all about now. "I needed the money to pay for a few things."

"What could you buy that is worth selling firearms?" Catherine asks and she's starting to look really upset again.

"Everything?" I respond softly.

"What do you mean everything?" She quickly counters.

"Food, clothes, shoes, stuff to play basketball, to pay for the trips and stuff."

Catherine looks like I punched her in the stomach. I'd look over to see how Mom is responding to all this, but I'm afraid to take my eyes from Catherine. At the moment she seems like she would be more of a threat.

"Your grandparents didn't…?"

I nod. "Sometimes they gave me stuff, but for the most part they didn't do much. My grandmother didn't want to support 'the likes of me' so I found other ways. The gun thing was totally wrong, I know, and I stopped. I didn't do it for very long, which I know doesn't mean much since I still did it. But sometimes I would just get so hungry…I guess they caught me at a weak moment."

Catherine shakes her head. "I need to get back to work."

"Okay," I've got nothing better to say at this point.

Catherine walks up to Mom and bends down to brush away some of the hair from Mom's forehead. "Feel better. Mel's going to make sure you get everything you need."

"Definitely." I say perhaps a little too loudly. They both look at me for a moment then immediately they are all into each other again.

"If things get too out of hand at work then call me," Mom tells Catherine and I feel even more out of place.

"Don't worry, Sara."

"It's hard not to."

Oh look, the paint is chipping over in that corner over there. Mom and Sara should consider getting the house repainted. I wonder when the last time the house was painted. I've got time on my hands, perhaps I could take up painting.

"Mel?"

"What?" Catherine looks like she's been trying to get my attention for a while now. But who knows. She was aggravated earlier too.

"Call me if you need anything."

"Definitely."

"Don't forget to lock that up either." She points to my hands and I just now remember that I still have a gun in my hand. I really should try and not look so comfortable with it.

"I'm on it."

"We'll talk tomorrow after Sara and I have a chance to talk about…this a little more."

"Of course," I try to keep up my enthusiasm but fall short on this one.

Catherine walks up to me and I barely hold myself back from cringing. I know that she's really not going to hit me. I know this, but old habits die hard and all. "I love you, Mel. No matter what okay?"

"Ditto," Mom adds weakly to the mix.

I don't really know what to say here. "Okay."

Catherine reaches out and cups my right cheek in the palm of her hand. "You're our daughter, Melinda. We don't stop loving you, ever, okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay," Catherine smiles and her hand drops from my face. "I need to get to work." She walks back over to Mom and kisses the sickly one on the lips, which is just nasty since Mom has been spewing her guts out, and tells Mom that she loves her then hurries out of the bedroom.

Mom jumps out of bed and runs towards the bathroom where seconds later I hear her throwing up. I turn back to the closet to start looking for the key that unlocks some box under the bed. I would help out with the throwing up and all, and I will, but first things first. Right?

So Maxwell says I need to aim somewhere. Well, I think I'm going to aim to do my best to believe that my parents won't leave me. That seems to be aiming pretty high to me, because it's still kind of hard to believe that they would want me. It's hard to believe that they would want me as much as I want them. I aim to believe and, I think I'm getting better at it because I believed Catherine. I believed her when she said she loved me.


	56. Chapter 56

**Chapter 56**

When I woke up in what I honestly thought was morning, the first thing I saw were Catherine's blue eyes staring down at me. Then, I quickly noticed that her hand was on my shoulder which had ultimately been the cause of me waking up in the first place. She was waking me up, and she looked really serious.

I tried to remember if I did anything stupid or crazy the night before, but couldn't remember anything that would warrant that look. I remember staying up with Mom while she was working through her food poisoning. She was all set and asleep when I decided to get some sleep myself.

Catherine, once she realized I was awake, told me to meet her downstairs then quickly left my room. I contemplated going back to sleep but ultimately had to decide against it. I didn't want to risk the consequences of Catherine coming back in my room to wake me up. I could honestly only take so much.

So I did get up and I did meet her downstairs. I also happened to notice that the clock on my nightstand read what I could only assume was two o'clock in the afternoon. That meant that Catherine could be waking me up because she just thought I needed to get up, although I completely understand that thinking that was just wishful thinking.

When I reached the den I saw Catherine and Mom waiting on me, I don't know what kept me from turning around and going back upstairs and back into my bed. I still felt like I could sleep for a few hours. Mom didn't look all too hot either, so perhaps we all could have used some more sleep.

I realize now that's what I should have done. That, perhaps, would have saved me from being told to sit down and listen before I said anything. That, perhaps, would have also saved me from the fifteen minute lecture I've just received from the both of them about how serious guns are and the effects of selling them.

They said that they understood my circumstances but I still made bad choices. They said something earlier too about putting my own life at risk as well. Now they are sharing with me a case from their long history of cases. It involved guns. Someone died.

I really know I shouldn't be letting my brain take a lala break right now, but I can't help it. They are really boring me with this stuff. I'm not going to go out and sell any more guns or anything. I know the consequences of what messing in this kind of stuff can be. I've seen it. Was even asked to participate once, but I have a feeling I shouldn't share that information right now…or ever.

"So please be honest with us, Melinda." Catherine has moved over to me and her hand is on my thigh.

Damn it. I didn't catch what I'm supposed to be honest about.

"We're not going to judge you, Mel." Mom adds in her encouragement, which I'm thankful for, but a little repeating of what I'm supposed to be honest about would be a little more helpful. I really don't want to admit I have no idea what they are talking about and risk another fifteen minute lecture.

Here goes nothing, "I've been honest with you about everything already. There's not a lot to tell."

The looks on their faces tell me that I've completely missed the mark. I don't think I was anywhere near the mark area, even. The mark is so far away right now that it's floating around in its own Marksville happy place far far away from me.

"We know that," Mom says through her apparent confusion. "But just because you don't think there's not a lot to tell doesn't mean there isn't anything to tell."

Well that didn't give me any hint at all. Why must I always take a brain vacation when something important is said? "I've said everything to you both already." I just barely keep from sounding like I'm asking a question.

"You have, but you would still need to talk to them. It's just hearsay from us." Catherine gives my thigh a quick squeeze and she's also given me the hint I've been looking for.

The hint prompts me to jump away from Catherine like her touch is burning me. "Fuck no!" I'm on my feet in a second running my right hand through my hair. "These people kill you for shit like that and I'm just now getting used being alive."

"We understand that," Catherine manages to stand up too. "That's why we're asking you if it's something you want to do. It's not something we're asking you to do."

"We take this stuff very seriously, Mel." Mom isn't standing but she still looks a little weak from all the fun the both of us had last night with her food poisoning and all. "It's our job to."

And I totally get that, kinda but one of the understandings people get real quick from being in the world I was involved in is that talking about it is a big bad no-no. It's a no-no that is put out on bright flashing neon signs. I've kept to the not confessing anything to the police or otherwise up pretty well so far. Well barring from me confessing to Catherine and Mom last night…now. But this is only one thing they know. There's lots more I could confess to being privy to, but they're the police, right.

Suddenly a feeling comes over me, one I haven't felt in a while. It makes me feel like the old me. The one that thought it was okay to sell guns for a while. The old me that thought it was okay to hang out with the people I did and stand back and watch a lot of the stuff happen that no one wants to think happens in our world.

"So what comes first, Sara?" My body has stilled and my voice is a couple of octaves lower than it had been before, "Is it the job and justice for all or the fucked up kid?"

We're not talking about some television show where all the cases are solved in under an hour, here. This is real life. If I start confessing now then eventually the yellow brick road is going to lead back to me. I couldn't even stand up and tell all the people that would want to kill me that what I was doing was for justice and good, because not only wouldn't they give a shit, the only important thing to them is that I broke the code that that world lives by.

I know Mom and Catherine understand that because they have to break that code all the time. They have to talk people into breaking the code. It's good they can do that. I'm all for justice, just not when it comes to me confessing anything to the officials. It's hypocritical and stupid, I know, but it's just how it is. If they can't understand that and can't…well if they can't put their jobs away around me, then I can leave. Maxwell says I have promise, right?

Mom jumps from her seat and her hand is immediately clasped around my right arm. I've got them both standing in front of me looking very intense right now, but I'm not going to back down. Surviving without them would be…hard, but I have to talk myself into believing that I can. I believe that I'm strong enough to survive, alone. "I don't know how you could even ask me that, Mel." Mom looks genuinely angry at me right now. Her anger scares whatever it was that was building back up in me away. "What do I have to show you that you come first? I've already quit my job in the middle of an investigation to care for you! Catherine and I have even talked about splitting up when you were at your worst, hoping it would make a damn bit of difference! The only reason we decided against it is because we knew it would take both of us to get you well again."

Wow. I think I've hit on a nerve here. I have the sudden urge to tell her it's not her but me but I don't think that would make a difference. "I don't know," I whisper instead. "I want to…"

"I just want to know what I need to do, Mel? That's all." The grip she has on my arms softens, not that it was incredibly firm before.

So how messed up is this right now? This is why I should have risked Catherine's wrath and stayed in bed.

Catherine's arm goes around Mom's waist, "Perhaps the two of you could use a break. We can finish this later."

Mom's hand starts to drop from my arm completely but I stop her by placing my hand on hers. "You're doing it already, Mom." That gets both of their attentions, and stops Catherine from looking at me in that semi-kind of chastising way she was looking at me with before. "I know what you've…done and…sacrificed," shit I can't talk anymore, "for me. Both of you. It's just hard to believe…digest sometimes that…you would really do it…for me. So I'm…" shit, "sorry. And thanks, y'know, for everything." Okay. Done.

"Thank you," Mom says as she puts her arms around me and pulls me in for a hug. I go with it even though I have no idea why she's thanking me.

When we pull apart I realize that I've forgotten to say something. "Don't ever think of sacrificing your relationship again, okay?" I look between the both of them as I speak. "You make each other happy. The for real, for a lifetime kind of happy, and I…uh…like seeing that. You're my parents and I'd kind of like to see you happy and keep you as a pair." Okay now I'm done.

They look at each other and have some kind of silent communication thing then look back at me. "We're happy you feel that way," Catherine says through a smile. "We didn't want to bring this up until later, but we were wondering if you thought it might be okay if I legally became your guardian? We know you're almost an adult and the formality isn't even necessary but…Sara will be adopting Lindsey too."

They're both looking at me with a certain amount of unease but Catherine looks a bit worse than Mom. She's looking at me like I might say I have a problem with it. In reality, I've got this funny feeling going through my heart and stomach. I know I'm not having a heart attack, but my heart kind of hurts almost nonetheless.

"I understand if you don't want to do it," Catherine's hand clasps mine in hers.

She thinks I don't want to do it? "It's only a symbolic gesture, y'know?" Catherine's face suddenly becomes bathed in disappointment. Mom's smiling. It's like she knows what I'm going to say already. "I'm kind of already yours, I think, y'know? So whether it's on paper or not, I've already become yours, but seeing it on paper would be really cool too."

"God I thought you were going to say no," Catherine says through a relieved breath as she pulls me to her then wraps her arms firmly around me. "I wouldn't know what I'd do if you said no."

"Call me the dumbest girl alive, I hope," I reply into her hair.

She laughs and Sara laughs and I laugh too just for the hell of it. Although I was kind of being serious. I know I can act really dumb at times and if I ever acted that stupid I would hope someone would tell me about it.

Catherine and I pull apart and she runs a hand through her hair at a measly attempt to straighten it out a little. "Hell, how did this happen?"

"It started with guns," I tell them seriously and effectively break the mood. "I can give you all the information I have about what I know. I'll write it down and you can give it to whoever, but I don't want to be involved in anything."

They both nod and Mom says a soft, "Okay."

Neither of them looks disappointed in me, which I think was my biggest fear. I don't want to disappoint them, not now. I want to do my best to make them…proud. I've never wanted that before.

"All we ever wanted for you was to do what you wanted and what you could. We were only giving you the option," Mom rubs her hand up and down my arm, probably to stave off an explosion like the one I had before. An explosion I might not have had had I been paying attention to them in the first place. I don't think they ever told me that they wanted me to go out and confess everything to the police. They probably, like Mom just said, 'were only giving me the option'. The only thing they've ever pushed me into was therapy.

So if I had been paying attention then none of this would have happened. I'm glad I stayed around and didn't go back to bed. This has been one of the freshest mornings of my life. Mom and I have kind of settled something and Catherine is going to make me her kid for real. It feels good, right now I feel good…and hungry.


	57. Chapter 57

**Chapter 57**

Catherine, Mom, and me are cool with each other now and all, but I still feel the need for some distance. I'm not angry with either of them or anything, I just feel the need to get away for a while, maybe put a little perspective on what's happened today or something. That's why I called Nikki and told her that she was going to take me out to lunch. She didn't have too many objections although she did ask me if anything was wrong. I told her we'd talk about it at lunch, but that everything was cool. She accepted the answer and told me she'd be by in ten minutes to pick me up.

I took one of the quickest showers known to the human race, made my self look presentable and now am waiting for Nikki to show up. When I told Catherine and Mom about my plans they just told me to have fun and reminded me to bring my cell phone with me so that I could call them in case something happened. They still worry when I go out that I'll have one of my freak out episodes. I still worry too, actually. I haven't had one in a while, which almost means that I'm due. Hopefully I'm not due today.

Nikki knocks on the front door but doesn't wait for anyone to answer it. She uses her own key to get in. Then she's over where we're sitting watching some stupid horror movie about moths or bees or something. Nikki bends over and first gives Catherine a kiss on the cheek in greeting, then Mom and finally settles in next to me. Her arm goes around my shoulders and we all sit and stare at the TV for a moment more until Nikki asks, "Is this about killer moths?"

"It's either that or bees," I answer.

"I think they're supposed to be mosquitoes," Catherine offers as one of the oversized insects fill the screen. "Where's Grissom when you need him?"

"I doubt that whatever that is, is an honest portrayal of its species." Mom adds.

"Well whatever it is," Nikki puffs up her chest a little, "I could take it out and save humankind. All I'd need is a really big bottle of bug killer and a helicopter."

"I could be the pilot," My eyes never leave the television screen. "I think I'd look good flying a helicopter."

"You don't know how to fly helicopters, hun," Nikki helpfully informs me.

"In the world where gigantic moth/bees/mosquitoes attack humankind, I could learn to fly a helicopter in an hour."

Nikki, Catherine and Mom agree with slight nods.

"So where are you two going and when will you be back?" Catherine asks as a commercial starts up.

"We're going to that new vegetarian restaurant nearby." Nikki leans forward so that she can meet Catherine's stare. "It has an open deck and doesn't hold a massive amount of people. It's kind of like a little hole in the wall that serves food."

Catherine nods her approval. "And you'll be back, when?"

"I'm not sure," Nikki looks from Catherine to me then back to Catherine again. "I was thinking after lunch Mel and I could head back to my place and hang out there for a while."

"Have fun," Mom says before Catherine manages to either nod her approval or disapproval. "Both of you be back tonight for dinner, though."

"Do you need us to pick anything up from the store before we come back?" I ask knowing that neither Catherine nor Mom have managed to go out lately for groceries and that having groceries are vital to making a meal.

"Funny you should ask," Catherine smiles as she reaches over to the end table and picks up a piece of paper. "Here's the list and you can get my debit card out of my purse in the foyer. You already know the pin."

I reach over to take the list and quickly read through the contents. We're having a vegetable mix with tofu tonight, one of Mom and my favorites. "Is there anything else?"

Before either Mom or Catherine can answer the phone rings. Since I'm already standing I move to answer it.

"Melinda?" The male voice says from the other end. I don't recognize it, although I feel that I should.

"Yeah?"

"It's Robert, Robert Gary."

Robert? My biological father rapist, Robert. Great. "Why are you calling? How did you get this number?" I know that we're not listed.

"I wanted to talk to you and…your mother about possibly seeing you again."

"What's wrong?" Mom asks probably because she sees a look come over my face announcing my displeasure in this phone call.

"It's Robert Gary," I say away from the mouthpiece of the phone.

Immediately Catherine, Mom and Nikki are standing right next to me. Catherine reaches out for the phone, which I have no problem handing over. "What are you doing calling here?" She asks immediately. There's silence for a moment then, "She has your number, Robert. If she wants to talk to you I'm sure you'll hear from her." There's more silence then, "We are letting her make her own decisions." More silence. "You can't be serious? You've poisoned yourself against her just by being who you are." Silence again. "Of course you don't get a second chance with me." Silence, but this time before Catherine opens up her mouth to say something else I grab the phone away from her. She pins me with her eyes of cold fire, so I turn around, and put the phone to my ear.

"Is it such a crime for me to want to know my own daughter?!" Robert screams into my ear. "To make sure that she's okay after she was so close to death?!" There's a long pause and then much more softly he asks, "What do I have to do, Catherine? I'm sorry, okay? I'm beyond sorry for what I did to Sara. I can't do anything to take it away, I know that. I wish I could, okay? I wish I wasn't such a fucked up bastard in high school, I do, but that doesn't change anything. It especially doesn't change the fact that I want to know my daughter. I want to do my best to make things right by being a father to her. Maybe I didn't go about that the right way before, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes now. I'm willing to work with you, Catherine, and Sara. I'll go at whatever pace you think is good for Melinda and good for you both." There's another pause and then the heartfelt plea, "I just want to know my daughter."

Perhaps I shouldn't have taken the phone away from Catherine, because now I have to respond to him. I can't just turn back around and give the phone back to Catherine and tell her that he said he was sorry. I don't think that would work out too well. Shit. "I don't think I could ever call you Dad or anything."

"Melinda?" He sounds surprised to hear my voice, which is understandable since he thought he was talking to Catherine.

"I don't know how to forget what you did, to forget how I was conceived."

"I don't think any of us can forget, Melinda."

I don't like the way he says my name. It sounds wrong, somehow, coming from him. He shouldn't be able to say my name or my parents' names or Nikki's name or Lindsey's name or anyone else I give a damn about. They would all sound wrong coming from him. "I don't want to see you, Robert." I can hear a quick exhale of breaths from behind me. I can't bother to turn around and look at them right now, though. This has to be done on my own, away from seeing their influence so that I know and so that I can tell Robert that I did this on my own. "I don't even really want to get to know you. I have a complete life without you, I don't need you and right now I really don't want you either." This time it's my turn to take a moment to gather up what I'm going to say next. "But if you want to email me sometime, I might find it in me to email you back."

"Thank you, Melinda." I can hardly hear his reply, he sounds so…relieved I guess. "What's your email address?"

I tell him and then figure we have nothing else to say so hang up the phone. I really don't' like talking to him.

When I turn back around all of them are looking at me with varying looks of what I can only call sympathy. Catherine looks angrier than Mom and Nikki do, though. It's good I know that she's not angry at me. "You're a better person than I think I could ever be, Mel," she tells me. Her anger seeming to simmer down a little bit.

"I don't think so." I stare down at the cordless phone that is still in my hands.

I'm not sure what it is they all heard in my voice, but suddenly I have all three of them reaching out towards me. Nikki reaches me first, and I fall into her embrace. Mom and Catherine take a step back away and let Nikki offer me her comfort in this moment. "I'm sorry this is so hard on you, Mel." Nikki whispers to me. "I'm sorry it's like this."

It's easy to cry when Nikki is holding me. It's a lot easier for me to cry these days too, but Nikki is the only one I don't doubt. I try really hard not to doubt Catherine and Mom and I'm getting better at it, but Nikki is the only one right now that I really don't doubt. It took a few years of a really close friendship for us to get here, though, so with time perhaps there won't be any doubts with Catherine or Mom either.

"Sweetie," Nikki pulls back and cups my face in her hands, "don't let him take up too much of your thoughts, okay? He's not worth the stress. You've already done more than I think anyone else in this room would have done for him."

I think the smile that covers my face confuses her so I opt to explain it, "We're the only ones in this room."

Nikki's hands drop from my face and she takes a quick look around. Catherine and Mom have disappeared to somewhere else. When she turns back to face me she's smiling too. "Didn't even hear them go anywhere."

"Yeah," I nod.

We pull further apart from each other and walk out of the room upon silent consent to go seek my parents out. We find them in the kitchen and neither of them notices our entrance, probably due to the fact they're practically making out on the island or at least very near the island. Nikki and I share a look then upon silent consent leave them alone in the kitchen. I'm sure whatever got them in their current state probably stemmed from Robert's call. They should be able to fully work out their…stuff with each other without our interruption.

Nikki and I make our way back to the living room and the horror movie that is still showing on the television. We take a seat on the sofa and I reach for the remote to turn up the volume, just in case any noises start coming from the kitchen that I can definitely live without hearing ever in my lifetime. When I sit back I settle against Nikki's body and get as comfortable as I can.

"I think they're ants," Nikki says as her hand runs through my hair. "Despite the fact they are flying around."

"Some ants fly," I tell her.

"Yeah, that's right."

"If they're ants, then where is their queen? Don't all ants work for the queen? I don't see a royal ant flying around."

"Good point," Absently the hand that isn't playing with my hair reaches out and seeks my free hand that isn't holding the remote. "They could be beetles then. Some beetles fly, I think, and don't have royalty."

Catherine and Mom come back into the living room looking fairly composed, although Mom does look like she's been crying but I'm not one to talk since I probably look that way too. They sit down and watch the movie for a moment before Mom tells us that the new restaurant Nikki was going to take me to delivers and that "We ordered a massive amount of food from them."

"Is that what you were doing in the kitchen?" Nikki asks with a smirk firmly placed on her face letting Mom and Catherine know they had been caught doing something that definitely wasn't ordering food.

Mom blushes slightly and Catherine winks at us managing to look quite pleased with herself. I laugh, which for some reason makes Mom blush even more. I don't feel the need to make anything harder on her at the moment, though, so instead I turn back to the movie. "They could be fleas," I suggest. "Fleas are weird looking insects."

"You're still paying for lunch, Nikki, by the way." Mom's looking intently at the television screen but I don't think any of us miss the smirk on her face.

Nikki nods. "I'm happy to do it." She turns her attention to Catherine. "Can I borrow your debit card, Cath?"

Perhaps Nikki and I should be a little upset that Mom and Catherine took it upon themselves to change our plans, but I don't feel any anger and I know that Nikki doesn't either. It doesn't feel right anymore to go out. We should be together. That's what feels right. Neither of us needed to talk to each other to figure that out. It's better to be together. The only person absent is Lindsey, but she's out with her friends this weekend.

"I'm going to try and give Lindsey a call," I move to sit up but Catherine's words stop me.

"We already called her too. She's on her way home."

I nod and lean back into Nikki. "How pissed was she?"

Catherine sighs. "She'll get over it."

"Sure," my disbelief is evident.

"Hey," Mom's eyes pin me, "We got you to want to stick around. Comparatively, Lindsey is a walk in the park."

I open my mouth to reply in some indignant manner but hold it back. "You're right."

We settle back down and put our attention back to the movie. I honestly don't know why it's keeping our attention at all. "So if Nikki is going to be the one with the big can of bug spray and Melinda is piloting the helicopter, where does that leave us?" Mom asks Catherine.

"I could always be the damsel in distress and you my rescuer." Catherine practically leers at Mom.

I snort. "So while we're saving the world Nik, they're going to be acting out some bedroom fantasy. I can see who really cares about humankind here."

"Wait, wait," Nikki looks at me seriously. "I didn't know that was an option."

"Nik!" I reach over and slap at her arm.

Mom, Catherine and Nikki are laughing. I start laughing too despite the blood that has rushed to my face. So despite Robert, despite what he's done and what he's trying to do now, we can still laugh. We can still be together. He doesn't have the power to tear us apart. None of us are giving that to him, and that's really good to know.


	58. Chapter 58

**Chapter 58**

"So you want to do what now?" I'm sitting on Nikki's couch trying to wrap my mind around Nikki's plans for her future.

"I want to enter the academy," she tells me again. "I think I need to plan on doing more with my life than sitting at dispatch for the next…I don't know how many years."

"You really want to be a police officer?" The job doesn't quite fit in with her history, but then again, she's changed a lot since she's been here—since she gave up her life in California and followed me out here to Las Vegas. Neither of us are the same really. I don't see how we could be.

"I know it's crazy," She releases a massive sigh then finally stops her pacing and takes a seat next to me on her couch. "I really think it's what I want to do."

If anyone were to bother to build one of those infamous time machines and I had the desire to use it to go back to the me who I was just a year ago, well we would have had a really interesting conversation. I think we would have both realized that we were worlds apart. I don't think the old me would have changed a damn thing, though. She'd do the same stuff she was doing before, and that would be a good thing because the me now would still survive. Makes a whole lot of sense, doesn't it?

"What do you think?" Nikki looks impatient with my prolonged silence.

"I think if it's something you want to do then you should. It's your life, Nik."

"I'm not asking you what you think." She's not? "Well yes, I am asking you that, but I'm not asking you for your blind support. I want to know…if it's okay with you."

I feel like I might be missing something here. "If it's what you want to do, then of course I'm okay with it. I want you to do what you think will make you happy."

Nikki's head drops into her hands. "That's not what I mean. I mean, I want you to be okay with it." She's repeating herself a lot here. I answered her question already, I think. "I mean, I don't want it to get in the way with anything that might happen with us. There are a thousand jobs out there that could probably make me happy and I just don't want to pick the one that you wouldn't want to stay around for."

The light bulb has been lighted and I've finally got some sort of understanding of this conversation. "Oh." It's really ironic, isn't it? I mean, here I am this young woman who has committed at least a couple of felonies and maybe a few misdemeanors and I eventually end up surrounded by two parents who are already involved in the criminal justice system and a very close friend who wants to end up in it. "The idea of 'us' never got in the way of any decisions we have made before."

"I know." Nikki lifts her head and turns her full attention to me. "We've never really…said anything about…us but I think we should."

It's been a really long time since I've seen Nikki this off kilter. "You want to define us?"

"Yes, I do." Her hand goes towards her hair but drops away and settles on her thigh instead. "I know we said in the past that we didn't need to. We've had this understanding, but things are different now, Mel. We're different." She stands up again and resumes her pacing. "I've been thinking of this since the night we ran into Jenny because when I saw her I realized that…you weren't really mine, and I don't mean that in a cavewoman type way. I mean, you're not mine, Mel. She could have done that little smile she does and you could have been dating her again, and I couldn't really say anything about it." She stops right in front of me then bends down and places her hand on my knee. "I want to be able to say something about it."

Well okay. "You can say something about it." I thought she already understood this. "You can say whatever you want about anything you want. But Nik, I can't promise you anything right now. I'm sorry, but I can't really promise anyone anything right now, not even myself."

Nikki's hand squeezes my knee. "I know and I'm not asking you to jump in some wedding gear right this moment so we can go to one of those cheesy chapels this city is in ample supply of. I'll always be here for you no matter what, you already—hopefully—you already know that. I just want to hear from you that since I'm sticking around eventually we'll have a chance to love each other without either of our ex-girlfriends or potential girlfriends or one-night stands getting in the way of that."

One-night stands? "Have you had any one-night stands recently? Have you wanted to?" It's been a long time since I've bothered to think about Nikki's life as it exists outside of my own. And here I thought I was getting a little better at trying to think of other people's emotions every once in a while.

"What?" Nikki looks confused. "Why? Have you?"

Huh? "What? No. Where would I even find the time or the place? I don't even want to think about what would happen if I brought anyone but you home with me. My parents would freak or at least throw daggers of disapproval in my direction until I kicked whoever was with me out."

"So why did you bring it up?" Nikki is sitting next to me on the couch again and I suddenly get this feeling that this conversation has gotten off track somehow.

"I didn't bring it up. You did."

"I…" I can see the protest about to leave Nikki's mouth but she clamps down on it. "I did bring it up, but not because I've actually have had any or have wanted to have any recently. I couldn't…I haven't really wanted to be with anyone else. To be honest, I haven't even thought about anything like that at all. I've just been focused on getting you well and starting up my life in a new city while trying to impress your parents enough so that they think it's actually okay for you to hang out with me."

"Yeah." I smile. "It's always good to impress parents who carry guns around for a living."

Nikki covers up her grin with a mock scowl. "Hey Mel, you shouldn't joke about that. When I first met Sara and Catherine I thought that they might hurt me. They wouldn't even let me into your hospital room until we had a very long conversation about how I knew you and why you came to me." She's turned from mock scowling to actual scowling. "That's the only reason they let me see you. I told Sara I was there for you way before she was forced to let you into her life. I told her that I cared while she sat back and pretended like you didn't even exist."

"Why do you love me?" It's an out of place question, I know but I've never understood it. We met each other when we were at our worst. Yet, for some reason Nikki thought I was worth facing off with two women who I know were half crazy then because of everything I had already put them through. Nikki thought I was worth standing up to two intimidating women and telling them that they were for all intents and purposes wrong.

"I could ask you the same." Her hand goes around my waist and she pulls me closer to her. "The only answer I have is that we've always come first with each other, Mel. Since the first time we met we, for some reason, must have decided to not let each other go despite our many, many, many flaws."

I smirk. "Many?"

She nods gravely. "Many. We're just a terrible mess."

"And that's why you want me to tell you I approve of your job choice?"

Nikki chuckles. "Yeah. I want to be a mess with you for a long time to come."

I chuckle too but turn serious again probably a lot sooner than Nikki wants me to. "What did Sara do when you yelled at her?"

"She looked like she wanted to hit me. Her and Catherine were already way more stressed out than any two people probably should be, so I'm kind of surprised she didn't hit me, but when I sit down and think about it I kind of figure that she didn't do it because she knew I was telling the truth." Nikki rubs her jaw as if remembering some past injury. "It kind of sucks that Catherine didn't have the same restraint."

"You're shittin' me. Catherine hit you?" That's…not so surprising actually. I knew Catherine had it in her, but at the same time I sort of didn't know she had it in her. It's something I can picture her doing but not actually see her doing.

Nikki shrugs. "She was stressed too. I think it was her way of telling me that I shouldn't pick on Sara. Later Catherine apologized and told me that Sara felt enough guilt already and she didn't think that I should feel the need to add more. Sara blames herself for everything Mel, you know that right?"

"Yeah," I say through a sigh. "I blamed her too, for a while. A long while actually."

"So did I," Nikki whispers. "I even think Catherine did to a certain extent." I open my mouth to protest but Nikki holds up her free hand to stop me. "Think about it, Mel. Catherine wanted to take you away from your grandparents the moment she learned about you but Sara wasn't ready yet. Do you think that Catherine is such a saint that she wouldn't throw a little blame towards Sara for some of what you've been through? Don't get me wrong, she supports Sara a hundred percent but that doesn't mean they always have to agree. The way I heard it, they've disagreed a lot in the past."

"Where'd you hear this?"

"Call it a workplace hazard."

We sit in silence for a while but eventually Nikki's arm around my waist tightens and I know that our conversation is being forced to making a full circle. She doesn't say anything to me, but she's looking at me in such a way that I know she wants me to talk to her about what we started talking about. She wants something from me.

"If you want to be a police officer, Nikki, then I want you to do it. It's kind of like you said already, we come first with each other. We've been that way since we met. That didn't change with my voyage into the wacky and it won't change with you doing something that is actually pretty cool. I'm sure that once you get through school Mom and Catherine will be all too eager to sign you up with CSI."

Nikki smiles. "Don't think that they haven't already tried and don't think they won't try to influence you either. They already know you're brilliant beyond comprehension."

"They're really trying to influence me to go to college these days." By some sort of mutual consent we both lean further into the couch and my arm goes around Nikki's stomach while hers stays wrapped around my body.

"With good reason."

"Please don't start," I roll my eyes. "I get enough of the lecturing from my parents."

"I'm on their side, Mel."

"Of course you are," I barely hold back the sarcasm in my voice. "You're on their side a lot."

Nikki gives a half shrug. "They've got good ideas."

We lapse into silence again except this time Nikki isn't expecting me to break it with some sort of confession. What I've already said to her must be enough for her. It's not enough for me, though. "I'm still in love with you. That hasn't changed and it won't change. When I'm…when we're both ready to, y'know, then nothing will stop us."

Nikki nods. "Okay. So now I don't feel so awkward telling you that I'm still in love with you too."


	59. Chapter 59

**Author's Note: Okay. So this is the end of _Mad World_. I would like to thank every one of you who gave this story a chance even though it might have not been your normal reading material. I'd also like to thank every one of you who took the time out to review. I read them and made some adjustments during my editing time. So enjoy the end of _Mad World. _**

**Chapter 59**

It's evening time and I've decided that I don't like being home alone that much. Lindsey is off with one of her many friends and Nikki is working and so are Catherine and Mom for that matter. The loneliness almost made me want to go out and find a job, but that feeling passed quickly and instead I decided to crash in on Catherine and Mom at work. I've only done it a couple of times before and I'm sure there are probably rules about this stuff, but at least this time when I show up it won't be because I'm going crazy.

Hanging out with them will give me a chance to see what it is they do exactly. I can be proactive and get involved in their lives. I can show them that I actually care about what they do. I can even tell them that I've decided to pursue school. That should make them happy.

"Excuse me," Someone's hand goes on my arm and I quickly turn around ready to punch whoever it is that touched me. I'm still a little jumpy about being out in public places and it doesn't help my anxiety much when people I don't know start touching me. The woman standing across from me doesn't flinch. She holds her ground. "Can I help you?" She asks but it doesn't sound like she's asking me to be helpful. It's like she's asking because she thinks I'm somewhere I definitely don't belong.

"I'm looking for Sara Sidle," I tell her figuring that it won't be in my best interest to piss off my parents' coworkers. I'm out to set good impressions these days. "I'm her daughter Melinda."

"Daughter?" The woman looks surprised. It's not the first time I've gotten that reaction. "She never mentioned a daughter to me."

"Are you friends with her?"

She looks confused and I can tell she's trying to figure out the relevancy of my question. "We work together," she answers carefully.

"Mom's secretive. She doesn't offer up information to people she doesn't really know."

The woman is looking at me like she doesn't believe me so it helps that Mom is calling out my name from behind me. I turn to her, kind of brushing off the woman in front of me.

"Hey," Mom walks up to me. "Is something wrong?"

"Wrong? No." I shake my head. "I was just feeling a little claustrophobic at home and figured I'd do my best to bother you and Catherine at work."

"She said she was your daughter?" the woman I've tried to dismiss steps up next to me.

"She is, Sofia."

So her name's Sofia. I'll have to remember that for the future. She'll be on my list of people to try and avoid while visiting my parents at work.

"Oh." For some reason Sofia looks hurt. I guess she just learned that she's not as close to Mom as she thought she was.

The moment is feeling a little awkward so I decide to get away from it. If I wanted awkward I could have just tried to tag along with Lindsey on her yet another adventure to the mall with her friends. Although, this time I think they were going to see a movie too but I'm fairly certain it was one I would have rather shot myself in the foot than pay to go see. "Catherine's in her office, right?"

Mom nods at me but it doesn't look like she's going to be leading me there so I take the initiative again. "I'll go surprise her then," I say and start to walk away but Mom stops me by putting her hand on my waist.

"I'll come with you," she tells me and takes my hand, which is kind of odd since I don't ever remember her doing it before. It's kind of like she's announcing her claim on me. It's almost like she's putting up a sign that reads, 'she's with me'.

Sofia walks away from us and I know that there are questions that most certainly can be asked. When we reach Catherine's office Catherine looks up from whatever papers she's going through and the first question she asks is, "Is there something wrong?"

I tell her I'm visiting them just to visit then quickly follow that up by asking Mom, "Do we not like Ms. Sofia?"

Catherine's eyes narrow. "Sofia? Did she do something?"

"No." I shake my head. "She just greeted me when I entered the CSI domain, it was nothin' big but there were some strange vibes flowing. So what's up with that?"

"Nothing," Mom and Catherine answer at the same time.

I cross my arms across my chest and lean back a little. "For some reason I don't believe either of you."

"It's none of your concern," Catherine replies.

"Did one of you sleep with her or something?"

"What? No!" They both yell at the same time. "What makes you think that?" Mom asks.

"I don't know," I shrug. "I've just been in a few situations in my day that had that kind of vibe attached to it. I think I've even seen the look she was giving you, Mom, on a face or two. It usually happened with some person who just learned I didn't really give a shit about them at all. I usually saw the look after we fu—"

"Mel!" They're getting really good at in sync yelling.

"I'm just sayin'."

"I thought you knew us better than that, Mel." Catherine doesn't look too happy. She almost looks disappointed.

"I didn't mean to offend either of you," I quickly apologize. "I know you two care for each other a lot and I'm glad that you do. I've already told you what I think of your relationship. I want to see you two together forever. I want you to get married in a really big ceremony, but preferably not with a lot of people, and I want you to have a honeymoon so that you can get away for a while and not worry about me. I want everything good for you both nothing bad." I stop talking only because I need air.

"The look you saw is of someone who has feelings for someone but that someone doesn't feel the same way," Mom says softly and almost offends me by her tone. It's like she's trying to explain something to a little kid. I'm not a little kid, especially when it comes to these types of things.

"So she told you that she had feelings?" That's tacky considering she must have known Mom and Catherine are together. Doesn't everyone know that? To me, it seems like it's kind of obvious. Although, when I first came here I didn't know about them, but eventually I guessed it or rather it was just told to me by Lindsey. Still, I would have caught on eventually.

"In a way," Mom answers.

"So you're here to annoy us?" Catherine may sound irritated but she's smiling.

"That was my original plan, yes, but you've both got a lot of drama going on right now. I thought our lives were supposed to be settling down."

"Our lives have been part of a series of dramatic stories, Mel." Catherine's still smiling. "It's part of life and part of our job."

"Don't you get tired of it?" My life is getting some sort of order for the first time in forever and one of the last things I want to hear is that I can expect more stuff in the future.

"I get tired all the time," Mom confesses. "But there's a lot of good stuff that happens in the drama, Mel. I got my daughter."

"And I got another daughter," Catherine adds.

For some reason I feel like this conversation has turned into a philosophical one that I'm not really wanting to participate in right now. "I've decided to go to school. I've already sent out applications to universities because somehow I ended up fulfilling my requirements for my high school diploma without anyone telling me that was what I was doing."

Mom and Catherine smile. "If you had cared more about what you were being tutored in and why then you would have known what was going on." Catherine tells me in that mom voice of hers.

"So that's how it's gonna be? It's all my fault and I wasn't being misled at all?"

Before either of them can answer there's a knock on Catherine's open door and when I turn around I see Sofia standing there. She says something to Catherine about tests or something and then everything is all about work again. Catherine tells me that I can hang out in her office but that I can't touch anything or she'll have me arrested—I'm almost sure she's joking—and then she and Mom are walking away off to fight the forces of evil.

Sofia lingers in the doorway and I'm getting the impression that she wants to say something to me. I sit down on Catherine's desk making an effort to appear as non-threatening as possible. I'm a few inches taller than her and I don't want her to feel like I'm hovering over her at all.

"I'm sorry about earlier," she eventually says. "I didn't mean to be rude. I'm glad I got a chance to meet a member of Sara's family. Like you pointed out, she's very private about her personal life."

"And I'm sorry if I implied that Sara didn't care for you at all. If it makes you feel any better neither Mom nor Catherine really talk to me about their work at all. They try to keep the home life and work life separate."

"So you're close to Catherine?" Sofia is leaning against the doorjamb now looking a lot more comfortable than she looked before.

"Well I consider her to be my mother too, if that's what you mean by close." I've just realized that I'm now well enough to have relatively comfortable conversations with a person I don't know. I'll have to tell the Doc about this.

"Oh really?" Sofia seems a little surprised by this.

"Trust me," I move from the desk and sit in one of the chairs in front of it, "it took me a while to think that way or at least admit to feeling that way. I think when I first got here I didn't really think of Catherine at all."

"When you first got here?"

"Yeah, Mom and I sort of were separated at birth, kind of. It's a long story."

Sofia nods her acceptance of my answer. "Catherine and Sara seem like they're close. I know that they're roommates. A lab tech told me that they moved in together because of something that happened with 'a daughter'. I assumed they were talking about Catherine's daughter because I once overheard her talking to Grissom about sending her daughter to private school."

Roommates? Okay I know that Catherine and Mom don't advertise their relationship everywhere, but I do know that at least Mr. Grissom knows about them. Although, I think he found out about it because of everything that was happening with me. I know for sure that Greg knows about everything because he helped them out so much when I first came, what with staying with Lindsey and all. Mr. Brown, I'm pretty sure knows about it too. Catherine talks to him or at least I got that impression when he drove me over here from Jenny's house that one time. I'm not sure I've actually had any real conversations with any of my parents' coworkers. There was that one breakfast but I wasn't exactly working the crowd trying to get to know everyone there. I don't think this woman was there.

"How long have you been part of Mom's unit or team or whatever?"

Sofia walks further into the office and takes a seat in the chair next to me. "Not very long. I just got here, actually."

"You like doing this stuff?" I wave my hand around hoping that my lack of knowledge in this particular job area can be overlooked.

"Yeah," she smiles, "I like this stuff."

Okay so I don't have anymore questions and I'm not feeling the need to volunteer any more information. I certainly don't want her learning from me that my parents live in the same house and stay in the same room because they have an intimate relationship that involves stuff that goes way beyond friendship.

"You don't have to keep me company," I say as politely as I possibly can. "I'm sure you have your own work to do. I can entertain myself. I'll count ceiling tiles or something."

She nods. "You're right; I do have work to do. It's just a little weird meeting you. Sara seems a little young to have a child your age."

She's fishing for information, I think. "Sometimes it happens that way."

"Yeah," She nods again. "I just think it's odd she never talks about you. Catherine talks about her daughter all the time."

I'm sure 'all the time' is an overstatement. "Sofia, trust me when I say that there's a lot to talk about when it comes to me but not a lot that we want to share with everyone. I'm sure that if my mom isn't talking about me then it's because she thinks the stuff she has to say is my story to tell and not hers."

A figure passes by the door and steps back in front of it when their eyes fall on me. "Hey Mel," It's Mr. Brown. "Sara said something about you being here."

"Hey, Mr. Brown." I say getting up to greet him.

"You know it's Warrick. You're too old to call me, Mr. Brown." Once I get close enough to him he puts his arm across my shoulders.

"I'm trying for the polite thing these days." I'm not entirely comfortable with his display of affection but I'm not having a panic attack right now either, so that's good.

"They told me about you applying for school." He smiles at me and I can just imagine Catherine and Sara telling him that I finally decided to go to college with big grins of triumph on their faces.

"It seems liked the right thing to do."

"It's good to see you doing so well," His arm falls from my shoulders and he steps away from me. "I've got to get back to work but it's good seeing you again."

He walks away and once again I'm left alone with Sofia. "I should get back to work." She gets up, finally, and it actually looks like she's going to leave me alone. "Good luck with school."

She's walking away from me and I know I'm relieved to see her do so but apparently my mouth isn't working like I want it to, "I'm sure my mom does like you, you know as a person," I say softly because I really don't want anyone else to hear me. "I hear it just takes a while for people around here to warm up to newcomers. My parents will be telling you more stories about me than you want to hear soon enough."

"Your parents?" A light goes off in Sofia's eyes and I know that I just unintentionally said something that probably gave away more information than I meant to give.

Giving away the truth can't be so bad, though. "Yeah."

"Okay." She nods once then walks away from me and I'm finally alone in Catherine's office. I walk around her desk and sit in her chair. There's a bunch of papers on her desk and I read a couple of them making sure not to touch. I can sort of follow some of the big words that are written down but quickly get bored with them. They all seem like really dry reading.

My cell phone rings in my pocket and I fetch it out. Lindsey's calling me. "Hello?" I answer.

"Melinda?"

"That's who you called." I smile.

"Can you come pick me up and don't tell Mom about it or Sara?"

Well that sounds like trouble. "What's wrong, Lindsey?" I get up from Catherine's chair and start walking out of her office.

"I just don't want to be here anymore and if I call Mom then I'll probably get in trouble." She sounds kind of upset.

"I'm already on my way." I'm almost to the building's exit. "Just tell me where you are exactly and I'll be there as soon as I can be."

She gives me some address on some street that I'm vaguely familiar with. I keep her on the phone until I reach her and only hang up when I see her standing outside of a house that has loud music coming from it. I walk up to her and the first thing she asks me is, "You're not going to start freaking out are you? I didn't know who else to call."

Her question is a valid one, which is probably why I stop to seriously consider it. I don't feel like I'm going to freak out. I feel almost a normal amount of concern and a little bit of anger. "No freak outs today, Lindsey." I put my hand on her back and gently push her towards the car that I've somehow become part owner of since Mom and Catherine rideshare to work. "But you do owe me a story about why I'm picking you up at a party instead of at the mall."

Lindsey pouts but lets me push her to the car. Once we get inside of it she starts telling me why she ended up at the party in the first place. She says a lot of words but I think it all comes down to that there was a boy there she wanted to see, but decided to leave when she saw what was actually going on at the party. "I'm glad you called me," I tell her once her flow of words has stopped.

"You're not going to tell Mom or Sara are you?"

"No, not this time. You showed that you're actually kind of responsible so that means I'll be your accomplice in your crimes this time."

"Thanks," she says softly. "It's kind of cool to have an older sister, now."

"Hey don't abuse it too much, Lindsey."

"I won't."

We sit in silence for a while and I recognize that I'm not really driving to anywhere. "I'm hungry," Lindsey puts her hand on her stomach for dramatic emphasis of her statement. "Buy me food or I'll die from starvation."

I laugh. "You're such a drama queen."

"Yeah right," Lindsey snorts, "says the girl who's the drama goddess of the world."

**The End**

* * *

**Sequel Anyone? I'm already working on it. I'll probably start posting it in about a week. The only reason I initially chose to end _Mad World_ where I did was because I felt the characters had evolved past this story and are moving into another. The sequel's title is _Inner Peace_. **


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